


with our backs to the wall (the darkness will fall)

by Kaslyna



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Healing, pls lmk if anything else should be tagged you think!, rating went up for future chapters, s3 ending au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-09-07 17:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16858243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: An AU in which Vanessa lives, and what comes after.





	1. the fall

**Author's Note:**

> Okay before you read the story here are just some notes I think are important:  
> -The full moon occurs the night after their arrival back in London, because I’m not sure if it’s one or two nights a month Ethan transforms so just to be safe I went with one night  
> -Some of the dialogue throughout is the same as in the episode or similar to it; some has been abbreviated or changed because I thought it fit better, but some of the dialogue I just felt was too good or got the point across well so I kept it

Had you asked him even a mere few weeks ago, Ethan Chandler would have been entirely sure that he could not  _ possibly _ regret leaving Vanessa Ives more than he already did, nor could his self loathing for rejecting her as she had finally,  _ finally _ , offered him her heart be any greater than it already was. And yet now, at the end of November as he stepped off the boat in London to an eerie fog with no one in sight, he realized how wrong he’d been in assuming his regrets could not deepen, that his self hatred could not grow. If he’d stayed, would this have happened? Ethan knew, with a sickening clarity, that it would not have; she would not have been so vulnerable with him by her side.  _ Lupus dei _ , Hecate had called him; prophesied to be Vanessa’s protector, and yet when she’d needed him most, he’d failed her in the worst of ways.

 

 Seeing the wolf hanging in her bedroom when they finally make it back to Grandage Place, the sickening feeling worsened. After they rid the mansion of the night creatures, there was only a brief moment to breathe. Ethan warily eyed the young Catriona Hartdegen as she cauterized Sir Malcolm’s wound, wondering where Vanessa had found her. It was unimportant; the woman had helped them against the night creatures. Whoever she might be, she was undoubtedly an ally to their cause.

 

The knock on the door startled all of them. They all exchanged worried looks. Ethan was the one to answer the door-gun in hand and cocked just in case-though he doubted a night creature would knock. 

 

It was an older woman. She introduced herself as an alienist named Dr. Florence Seward and explained that she was also looking for Vanessa. His heart clenched in his chest again at this new evidence of just how badly he’d fucked up by leaving Vanessa.

 

“I’m going out,” Ethan declared after they’d all settled in the parlor, “Even if I can’t find her right now, we need the doctor to make sure that wound isn’t infected.”

 

“You need a mask of some sort,” Miss Hartdegen said, and Dr. Seward nodded in agreement.

 

“Neither of you had one,” he pointed out simply. When no one protested again, Ethan left, going out into the foreboding London night.

 

The doctor answered his door, gun first. When he saw who it was he practically trembled with relief as he lowered the weapon.

 

“What is it?” he asked, beckoning Ethan inside. Ethan reluctantly obliged, knowing that inside was safer than out, even in an apartment building that seemed otherwise empty. 

 

“There were night creatures when we returned to Grandage Place,” he explained, “Sir Malcolm was bitten. A young woman who helped us defeat them cauterized the wound, theorizing that that would stop the infection from spreading, but I think it’d be best if you came with me to check it out for yourself.”

 

Victor nodded, slowly, considering, and replied with a sigh, “Let me get my things then.”

 

Ethan waited for him to be ready, bag in one hand and gun in the other. Ethan took the lead as they made their way cautiously out of the apartment and the building itself. Their walk to Grandage Place was slow, and they avoided back alleys as much as they could. The silence raised the hairs on the back of Ethan’s neck, and both men constantly found themselves slowing further to look around to be sure that they were alone. Whether or not they truly were, they met no night creatures along the way-much to their great relief.

 

Victor determined the same thing as Miss Hartdegen upon his examination: that cauterization and strict monitoring of Sir Malcolm were the only options with which to prevent transformation. They were all sitting quietly in the parlor now, sharing a drink as they considered their next move. 

 

“We should go tomorrow night,” Ethan told them quietly, once he realized with slowly budding hope that the next night would be a full moon, “It gives us time to figure out where they are. We can leave at dusk.”

 

“They may be stronger at night,” Sir Malcolm pointed out.

 

Ethan swallowed, and looked at everyone. They all looked exhausted, some of them-like him-with guilt radiating off of them in waves. He did not wish to burden them further, and yet he knew he must to explain his reasoning behind why they had to attempt a rescue the next evening.

 

“Alright,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Do you remember when we translated the Verbis Diablo, how the demon repeated  _ lupus dei _ , over and over?”

 

“Yes,” Sir Malcolm gave him a confused look, “He is meant to be Miss Ives’ protector, though where he be we do not know.”

 

Ethan’s heart ached with remorse and he forced himself to admit, “I know where he is.”

 

“Where?” Sir Malcolm asked, an excited gleam coming forth in his eye, “If we find him and recruit him, that may give us the advantage we need to end this.”

 

Ethan swallowed thickly and couldn’t bring himself to meet anyone’s eyes before he answered, his voice barely above a whisper, “I am the  _ lupus dei _ .”

 

The silence that followed was deafening as everyone absorbed that information. It was Victor who finally cut through the tension, “You truly believe yourself to be a thing of myth?”

 

There was a certain relief in the doctor’s typical snide response, along with irritation that despite all they’d seen the young man could not believe in something that could not be rationally explained. 

 

“Not believe,” Ethan corrected, “There’s a full moon tomorrow night. During the full moons I become something… a beast, more wolf than man. That’s why we need to go tomorrow night. It’s a huge risk, because I’ve only been able to take control once, when the beast saw Vanessa-but I think it’s our only shot at saving her. I failed her once. I won’t do it again.”

 

“This could work,” Miss Hartdegen piped up, “Would one of you be so kind as to tell me all you know about this Verbis Diablo, and the prophecy you found? Miss Ives spoke as little of it as possible, you see.”

 

“I can,” Sir Malcolm volunteered.

 

“I think I may know where to get the location of their den,” Dr. Seward said grimly, “Though the man I will need to interrogate is in Bedlam.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Victor offered, quickly, and at everyone’s curious looks explained, “There is a colleague of mine who works there. If we are given trouble he can help us get in.”

 

Dr. Seward nodded her agreement. Everyone turned to Ethan expectantly, but it was Kaetenay who spoke, “Ethan and I will scout out their den once you have a location, though no doubt it’ll be heavily guarded.”

 

“If that’s settled then,” Sir Malcolm sighed heavily, “I think it’s best if we all agree we go nowhere alone until we’ve put an end to the end of days.”

 

Everyone murmured their assent, and people began to move. By unspoken agreement no one would leave the mansion again that night. Sir Malcolm and Miss Hartdegen talked in hushed, rapid tones about what had occured with the nightcomers, and what they’d discovered about Vanessa-and apparently Ethan’s as well-destiny. Kaetenay moved closer to Ethan, and asked for a word. Warily, Ethan acquiesced, leading the older man upstairs and into the guest room he’d occupied briefly.

 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, “You need to hear me out, no matter how angry it makes you.”

 

Ethan nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he wondered what Kaetenay was about to tell him, sure it could be nothing good.

 

“I am like you,” Kaetenay told him, “Both man and beast. When the moon was full, I’d sneak away and find the enemy camp. I would wait for the wolf to devour me, so that I might devour them. I believed it to be my gift from God, at first, a way to protect my people-to save them. But I was wrong. The soldiers kept coming and my people kept dying. Then a vision came to me, about a man with a true heart, a man who was to be my son, and I finally understood my purpose. It was not to save my people. It was to give you the power to save all people.”

 

There was a long silence, thick with tension, rage creeping through Ethan’s veins like ice at the implication of his words. The timing made sense. Of all of Kaetenay’s betrayals, this was perhaps the worst. So many lives lost senselessly to the violence of Ethan’s curse, and now this man claimed that it was his divine purpose to help him fulfill Ethan’s by making him live with this terrible thing inside of him? The beast stirred as Ethan’s anger and despair grew, and Ethan struggled to force it down. 

 

“You made me this monster?” Ethan asked, voice deadly calm as he stalked towards the older man, who did not cower or back away.

 

“I claimed you for God,” he replied, simply, and Ethan saw red. He grabbed him by the throat, pushing back to slam him against the door.

 

Ethan tightened his grip and growled, “Do you know how many people I’ve murdered? How many have suffered? Their blood is on my  _ soul! _ You have poisoned my heart!”

 

Kaetenay gasped, “I have given you the power to save her!”

 

All rage left Ethan instantly, letting go of Kaetenay, who staggered away from the door and struggled for breath, wincing as he ran a hand over his windpipe. Ethan’s entire body sagged with exhaustion, with the weight of his failure and the burden of his destiny. He waited for the older man to catch his breath, and did not apologize.

 

“I, alone, understand the sins you have committed,” Kaetenay continued, “The pain you carry. But all your life you have run from this pain. Tomorrow night, you stop running. Tomorrow night, you accept the destiny that God has granted.”

 

“I will do whatever I need to, to save her,” Ethan’s voice broke at the end, and Kaetenay looked at him. They shared a long moment, communicating without words. Perhaps forgiveness between the two was impossible, but in that moment they finally, reluctantly, began to truly understand one another.

 

Ethan nodded at him, and wordlessly pushed past him, leaving. He desperately needed air-room to think-but he knew that going outside was out of the question. Instead he found himself in Vanessa’s room, the wolf having been cleared out. His heart ached again at the empty space on the wall where her cross used to be, and what seemed to be the remains of it still in her fireplace. Slowly he sank down against the wall, under the mark that the cross had left, and there he stayed until dawn rose. Whether or not he slept that night, he did not know. Nor, he decided, did it matter. All that mattered now was finding Vanessa and saving her.

 

Tonight, as usual with the full moons, there would be blood. But tonight the blood spilled would be for a righteous cause, against creatures not fit to be called men. Tonight, he and Vanessa would fulfill their mutual destiny. This he knew deep in his bones, some inexplicable thing telling him it would be so.

 

One thing was for certain: Ethan would never fail her again.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Emptiness is all she knew now. In the almost two weeks since her surrender, she had gone numb, devoid of all emotion. It was perhaps the only way she knew how to cope; the horrors her fall has allowed were too terrible to think of. When she found herself close to feeling anything but the chilling numbness, it was anger and disgust with herself, for how weak she had become. There was a bittersweet sense of triumph, at first: now she knew why she had been tormented, and the torment had ceased. But then came the realization that in return the torment of so many others had just begun, and thus the empty feeling slowly crept into her heart, and as it persisted it became all she knew.

 

There was pleasure, sometimes too. It was of a hollow sort; a way to feel  _ anything _ again. But she did not allow him to touch her as she touched him; when he advanced, she retreated. He was only allowed to touch her at her whim, while he allowed her to touch freely-a hand on his shoulder, her hand in his, casual gestures that would be sweet were they anyone else. The times when she lets him fuck her are the only times she allowed him the illusion that he had some sort of dominance over her. It worked for them; she with her emptiness and he with his bloodlust, the ecstasy of having conquered her not yet faded. And regardless of what he might claim, it was a conquest. Vanessa saw that now, with sickening clarity. No longer can she pretend otherwise.

 

Vanessa still thought of him, sometimes. Ethan- _ lupus dei _ -the man prophesied to protect her from the devil, from Dracula; the man who had failed in his purpose, who chose to betray his promise to save her. There was a pang of bitter longing where she believed her heart must’ve been before she lost it whenever thoughts of him arise. No matter what she had become, she could not fully escape the desperate, selfish  _ need _ she had for him. Even now-in those rare times where she could feel something,  _ anything _ -there was a part of her that yearned for him-for him to come and to save her in the only way one beyond saving can be saved: by the mercy of his bullet in her heart.

 

Vanessa was the first to sense his presence in London. It revived something in her; anticipation at the inevitable confrontation spread like warmth through her veins. He could end this, she knew, if she could convince him that it was what must be done.

 

Dracula sensed his presence after a fashion as well, and became morose. Vanessa walked to him, vague disgust rising at the way the night creatures bowed to her. She paid them no mind, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He remained rigid, unmoved by her presence, her attempt at kindness. Perhaps he saw it as placation. Perhaps he was right.

 

“What do you fear?” she asked, softly.

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” his reply is curt, in a tone that tells her he wished her to drop the subject. 

 

Having no plans to do so, Vanessa snapped back, “I can smell it on you.”

 

There was a pause, as Dracula digested both her words and the tone of them. She half hoped him to turn on her, to break her so that Ethan must not risk his life to do so. Dracula did no such thing; eventually, he reluctantly responded, “He’s coming, your Mr. Chandler. I have reason to fear him. He is foretold as my singular enemy.”

 

Vanessa nearly laughed but managed to control herself, to sound soothing when she assured him, “Fear not old prophecies. We defy them. We make our own heaven… and our own hell. Let him come. He and I shall write the ending in blood, as it was always going to be.”

 

“You believe yourself to be enough to stop him?” Dracula scoffed.

 

“He will not hurt me,” Vanessa insisted, reigning in her temper at his derision, “He fancies himself in love with me. Mr. Chandler will not suspect that I am not some damsel he must rescue, and I shall use that against him.”

 

Dracula was silent for a long time after that, considering. He reached to cover her hand with his, and she retracted hers in response, stepping away to leave him be. As she turned away he sighed and replied, “Very well. Bring him to me when you are finished, and our children may feast.”

 

She repressed a shudder of disgust and nodded, then forced herself to respond verbally as he could not see her reluctant assent, “Of course, my love.”

 

Vanessa did leave after that, planning out where she shall be when Ethan inevitably arrived to find her. The flame that had sparked inside of her when she became aware of him burned just a tad hotter; she was grimly determined to ensure Ethan’s safety, no matter the cost. Blood would be spilt, yes; but it would not be the blood of the  _ lupus dei _ as Dracula desired.

 

It would be hers-the blood of his queen. A fitting end to the tragedy of her life.

 

-o-o-o-

 

The need to find her was an itch he couldn’t scratch, lurking beneath his skin, seeping into his very being until he became noticeably irritated at their lack of progress. By late morning those who remained in Grandage Place gave Ethan a wide berth, deciding a potential conflict was not worth it. He paced around the parlor restlessly, cursing the fact that they’d yet to find out where Vanessa was.

 

It was Sir Malcolm who coaxed him into eating something Kaetenay had made around noontime. Shortly after lunch Dr. Seward and Victor returned, much to Ethan’s relief. They’d barely made it through the door before he approached them, ready to be able to do  _ something _ , finally.

 

Kaetenay and Ethan headed out almost immediately after being told the location. Their scouting mission, as it were, was brief, and they had to stay away from the building itself lest they alert Dracula to their presence too soon. They walked the outskirts multiple times, talking in hushed murmurs whenever they were sure it was safe to do so about possible entrances and plans. 

 

Kaetenay’s own curse was somewhat of an issue; he could not be in the same room as their allies, and yet they’d need every person possible against the night creatures. Eventually they decided that he would enter from a back entrance with Ethan to find Vanessa while the others distracted Dracula, and that he would take on any night creatures who might return from other places. It was far from a perfect plan, but they both decided it’d do. With that settled, they returned to Grandage Place in the late afternoon.

 

They spent the better part of an hour going over the layout and their plan with the others. When they felt they had a solid plan in place-and that it was close enough to dark but not too close-they left. 

 

Ethan found himself filled with a sense of purpose like he’d never known before. There was a calm clarity within him where there should have been turmoil. He was always meant to protect Vanessa; as much as he still hated and distrusted his curse, he finally felt connected to it. He understood that the risk of it was the only way to get Vanessa out alive after he’d found her, and he accepted it.

 

They separated when they got closer, wishing each other luck. Kaetenay and Ethan watched for a moment as Sir Malcolm, Dr. Seward, Victor, and Miss Hartdegen headed towards the main entrance of the factory and collected themselves. They shared a look of understanding. Ethan nodded slightly, and wordlessly he began to lead the way to the back entrance, as it were: an old underground passage. 

 

It was eerily quiet as they slowly made their way into the bowels of the old factory; up until it wasn’t. There were two night creatures outside of a door. They killed them and looked at one another. Ethan could sense it: Vanessa was close. The itch intensified and it must’ve shown on his face, because Kaetenay’s own softened slightly in understanding.

 

“Go to her,” he told him, “I’ll do my part around the perimeter.”

 

Ethan nodded, “Thank you.”

 

Kaetenay just nodded, and left it at that. There was too much bad blood still for them to be sentimental in any way. Ethan took a deep breath to steel himself for whatever awaited him in that room. No longer able to see outside meant that he wasn’t sure how long it would be until the change, but his instincts were sharper so he guessed it wouldn’t be too long.

 

He opened the door cautiously, but there was no ambush waiting. Vanessa was here; Ethan could feel it in his bones-no, in his  _ soul _ . He stepped through the door, afraid for the first time that night of what he might find in this room.

 

Vanessa stood at the end of the room, her back to him. Her black hair-longer than before he’d left, he was sure-hung in loose curls down her back, somewhat pulled back. She turned to face him, slowly. It seemed she was as apprehensive as him in that moment. The pain written on her face as she took in the sight of him was palpable, and he felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him for doing this to her. She was gaunter too somehow, all sharp angles; paler as well, except for around her eyes, and for the first time it hit him that she might be too lost to be found again. He banished the thought almost as soon as it came; he’d failed her once, he reminded himself, and he would not do so again.

 

“It hurts me more than I thought it would,” she broke the silence, voice soft and quavering, “Seeing you.”

 

Ethan quashed the pain her words caused him and told her as firmly as he could manage, “You need to come with me. Now.”

 

“And go where?” she scoffed, a bitter smile overtaking her face, “They will hunt me to the end of days.”

 

“I can protect you,” he replied.

 

“No you can’t. No one can,” she insisted.

 

“Then we’ll fight him,” he refused to give in. It caused a small, sad smile to bloom on her face.

 

“It’s not him, it’s me. Look at me,” she met his eyes, her lower lip trembling a little with barely suppressed emotion, “This is what I am. And this is what I’ve done. Brought this terrible darkness to the world.”

 

“Vanessa,  _ please _ ,” he begged, softly.

 

“Vanessa,” she almost huffed out a bitter laugh, “And where is she? When did we lose her, Ethan? She was standing in a quiet room, gazing up at a cross. She reached out, took it from the wall… and put it in the fire. And then she was lost, and so alone.”

 

The pain at her words nearly blinded Ethan, but he forced himself to respond, equally insistent, “You are not alone. You never were. No matter how far you run away from God, He is still waiting ahead.”

 

“Not for me,” she replied dismissively.

 

Ethan shook his head at her obstinance, “For us all.”

 

“My battle must end,” her tone softened slightly now, pitying almost it seemed, “You know that. Or there will never be peace on Earth. Let it end.”

 

“Don’t ask it,” Ethan growled, getting close enough that if he reached out even slightly he’d be touching her, “Don’t even  _ think _ it.”

 

“Ethan-”

 

“ _ No _ ,” he hissed, taking her forcefully by the shoulders, “I never should’ve left you, but I’m here now. And I am not gonna leave you again-not now, not ever.”

 

“Please,” she begged, tears beginning to fall from her eyes, “Please, Ethan. Let it end.”

 

He shook his head vehemently, “ _ Damn _ it Vanessa!”

 

There was a long silence after his outburst. The only sound was their ragged breathing as they stared at one another. They paid no mind to their own tears, but acknowledged the other’s for what they were. 

 

“I need you to trust me,” he told her, moving his hands to cradle her face gently in his hands, leaning in to press his forehead to hers, “Vanessa, please.  _ Please _ . I know it’s asking for more than you can give but you have to. You have to-Vanessa,  _ please _ .”

 

She let out a choked sob at his begging and nodded slightly, unable to find words. Vanessa leaned up to kiss him, hard and desperate. His initial surprise melted after a short moment and he responded just as desperately. They could each taste the other’s tears and when they pulled away they were short of breath. They pressed their foreheads together again for a long moment.

 

“What do we do?” she asked softly, pulling away slightly so she could look at him properly.

 

Ethan relaxed a little and let out a shaky breath, “It’s a full moon. I don’t know when it’ll come out, but I need to be by a window when it does. And I need you to trust me, completely.”

 

“I do,” she told him automatically. He smiled at her, sad and disbelieving.

 

“I don’t exactly have a plan,” he admitted.

 

“I have one you won’t like,” she grimaced.

 

“I like any idea that gets you out of here alive,” he assured her, and her smile was sweet and sad.

 

“Turn around,” she commanded.

 

Ethan did as told, and wondered as he heard what sounded like fabric shredding. He didn’t have to wonder for long; soon Vanessa had his hands behind his back, wrapping something tightly around them. She came around and he saw then she’d torn the sleeves of her dress as she wrapped one around his face to cover his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, and then she’d gagged him, too.

 

She was rough with him as she herded him through the complex, presumably to wherever Dracula was hiding out from the battle that must’ve been raging in the main part of the factory. Eventually she let go of him and he heard a door creak open. She was even rougher this time, shoving him to his knees.

 

“A present, my love,” she cooed, and then she was removing the blindfold. He saw the disapproving glare of Dracula, sitting on a chair in a small room with high windows, lit only by candles and the rising moon.

 

“Are you a fool?” he hissed at her.

 

“I thought you might prefer to do the honors,” she replied, and moved to Ethan’s front.

 

She smirked, and removed the gag. Ethan, acting on impulse, began to beg, “Vanessa, please, I can save you, I won’t hurt you, please,  _ please _ just come with me-”

 

Dracula snarled and got up, kicking Ethan to his back. Vanessa stepped gracefully aside.

 

“You are  _ weak _ ,” Dracula chuckled darkly, “Nevertheless… I could make use of you.”

 

“How so?” Vanessa asked, and Dracula turned a sharp glare on her, evidently still mad at her bringing Ethan-his foretold enemy-to him.

 

“You are powerful,” Dracula ignored her, circling him, “This I do not deny. You could join us, and unleash the power within you. Perhaps I would become so inclined to share her with you, as well, if you were true to us.”

 

“And if I decline?” Ethan asked.

 

“Then I would have the pleasure of defeating you myself,” Dracula’s grin was wicked, “It would be a fair fight. After all, tonight is the full moon.”

 

As if his words themselves had summoned it, the moon finally broke through the fog. The change was a grisly process, and tonight was no different. Vanessa stepped back, much to Ethan’s relief.

 

She watched in fascinated horror as Ethan’s body changed into that of a beast. The beast was still for a moment, getting ready to strike. The fabric that bound him was easily torn, and the beast stood and lunged for Dracula.

 

Vanessa made no move to intervene on either man’s behalf as the battle began. Ethan had the advantage at first, getting a few good strikes in before Dracula gathered himself enough to truly respond. After that it was difficult to tell for a good while who had the upper hand.

 

It changed fast. They got too close to her, and Vanessa was knocked aside. She staggered from the ground and backed away slowly, but the damage was done: Ethan was thoroughly distracted. She realized with growing horror that Dracula had pushed her on purpose to gain an advantage. Dracula was able to send him flying across the room. She watched-agonized-as Dracula stalked slowly towards Ethan, a predatory grin on his face, clearly intending to savor the moment. Instinctively, Vanessa knew that his next blow would be the last.

 

As they had before in the past, the words came to her of their own volition. She was not aware she’d spoken until Dracula turned towards her, surprised horror on his face shifting to malice at the realization of what she’d done. Vanessa felt no fear-only calm acceptance-as he advanced on her. If it was her fate to end this with her death, then so be it. Her destiny was to become this-the mother of evil; Ethan’s destiny was to protect her. But it was her  _ choice _ to protect him, to sacrifice herself if she must to ensure that he could live another day. Her death would be her own in a way her life never truly had been.

 

He was mere steps from her now. Vanessa could no longer see Ethan past Dracula. Her voice never wavered as she continued the incantation; in fact, it only became stronger and more determined. 

 

Once more, everything changed fast. At the exact moment Vanessa’s crescendoing words ended, a clawed hand reached and tore at Dracula’s throat. Blood gushed, and his body exploded into dust.

 

Vanessa only had a moment to process what had happened before her vision went white and she fell. 

 

The last thing she was aware of was an inhuman growl, and as her senses faded she clung desperately to it, suddenly afraid of what would come next.


	2. the fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to upload this yesterday, but yesterday was crazy sorry!! But here you go. I hope you all like it.

One moment, it had seemed that all was lost as the night creatures closed in. Their numbers had been overwhelmingly greater than their ragtag band, and they’d all accepted this fight for the lost cause it was. The next moment, however, all the night creatures suddenly and inexplicably collapsed. Stranger still was that they decomposed quickly after their fall, and when they hesitantly glanced up at the windows overhead they found, to their great relief, the fog dissipating. All at once it became quite clear what had happened: Ethan had succeeded in his part of this mission.

 

They took the moment to breathe, to bask in the sheer relief that this knowledge brought. Then there was a flurry of movement, as everyone checked each other for bite wounds. Finding none brought another wave of relief. 

 

It was Sir Malcolm who eventually broke the silence, his voiced more choked than he would’ve liked when he said softly, “Thank you.”

 

Everyone nodded in acknowledgement. He had not expected them to stay and fight a losing battle, and they had. He would not forget that. 

 

“Right,” Victor broke the second silence, “Shall we find the others then?”

 

“We must be cautious,” Sir Malcolm warned, “I think we should wait until sunrise to do so.”

 

Victor frowned. He disliked the idea of waiting that long in case Ethan and Vanessa were injured, but he remembered Ethan’s insistence that the beast was uncontrollable. It was perhaps ten hours until the sunrise; they would just have to hope that they were alright for that long.

 

“Alright,” he sighed, relenting, “Then if we must wait, I would like to gather some supplies so we are prepared for whatever we may find in that room.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Miss Hartdegen offered. 

 

Victor gave her a surprised look, and she shook her head a little and added, “There are a few things I’d like to have prepared as well. Besides, two is better than one, in case anything is still out there.”

 

“We will try to find them then,” Sir Malcolm decided, with a slight nod of acknowledgment directed towards Dr. Seward. 

 

She nodded in agreement, and with their roles decided, the group dispersed: Sir Malcolm and Dr. Seward further into the abandoned factory, and Victor and Miss Hartdegen tentatively into the London night.

 

-o-o-o-

 

The further they got from the former vampire den, the more relaxed Victor and Miss Hartdegen became. They went to Victor’s apartment first for his medical supplies, and then to Grandage Place. 

 

“We need holy water,” Miss Hartdegen informed him, once she had packed everything she needed.

 

“Do we now?” he snorted in disbelief, and she narrowed her eyes a little and frowned.

 

“If you wish to save Miss Ives, then yes, we do,” she insisted, knocking into him deliberately on her way to the door, “You can come along with me, or return to the others on your own.”

 

With a heavy sigh, Victor followed her, deciding that she had been right earlier; two  _ was _ still better than one. Even if that meant going against his principles by following her to a church for something no more useful than a bottle of snake oil. 

 

It took them four churches; the first two were abandoned and Miss Hartdegen did not want to raid them; the third was out of holy water, and they were hastily turned away by a panicked looking priest. The fourth was run by an older man, no less panicked, and annoyed with them for disturbing his sleep. Nevertheless, he had the holy water Miss Hartdegen thought they needed, and when they received it, they made their way back to the factory.

 

By the time they arrived, the sun had just risen.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Ethan came to slowly, disoriented and in pain. His entire body felt heavy, but especially his legs, which seemed almost numb. That realization cleared some of the fog, and he was able to blink his eyes open. The sight that met him made his heart lurch in his chest: Vanessa’s body was splayed across his lap. While there were no obvious injuries on her body, she wasn’t conscious, and Ethan immediately feared the worse. Shakily he reached a hand out over her mouth, and the relief that coursed through him at the feeling of her breathing nearly crippled him.

 

But why then was she unconscious? At this point Ethan’s memories were returning, with more clarity than usual. He remembered a battle; he remembered the terror the beast felt when Vanessa had gotten caught in the fray. He remembered her voice, steady and loud as she spoke the devil’s language; he remembered locking eyes with her briefly after Dracula had exploded into dust from the spell she’d spoken. He remembered her falling after that, and the beast’s anguish. The only thing the beast could think to do was spend the rest of his time guarding her body.

 

He knew he had to find the others; particularly, Victor. Whatever this was, he was entirely sure it was abnormal. Ethan was careful as he began to gently move her body, afraid of hurting her. It was as he began to lift her from his lap that he heard hushed voices from the other side of the door. He tensed, and then realized the voices were familiar. 

 

Deciding not to move her after all, Ethan instead yelled, “In here!”

 

There was silence for a long moment, and Ethan contemplated moving Vanessa again so that he might go out and invite the others in personally. As he made the move to do so, the door banged open. Sir Malcolm entered weapon first; when he saw that it was Ethan, and not a beast, the gun dropped. His face hardened at the sight of Vanessa, and became tense at the expression on Ethan’s face.

 

“What happened?” he demanded, moving towards them. The others followed suit, Victor rushing to meet them first.

 

“She just collapsed,” he swallowed hard, “I don’t remember much, but-we defeated Dracula, and she collapsed.”

 

“She must’ve collapsed at the same time the others did,” Victor murmured, frowning in concentration as he took one of Vanessa’s wrists to begin looking for a pulse.

 

“Why is she still alive then?” Sir Malcolm asked, confused.

 

“Because she wasn’t one of them,” Miss Hartdegen piped up as she approached, “He bit her, but he didn’t turn her-not fully, at least. Still, she was in his thrall. It stands to reason that all in his thrall died with him, but her own power is what saved her from such a fate-as well as being what kept her from turning completely.”

 

“What do we do?” Ethan asked.

 

“I did my research,” she grinned at him, clearly pleased with herself, “It wasn’t easy, believe me-but I did find enough consistencies to come up with a solution. Sit her up.”

 

Victor shot her an annoyed glare, but Ethan ignored their silent argument and did as told, moving Vanessa’s body carefully into an upright position between him and Miss Hartdegen. Miss Hartdegen muttered something to herself as she began to brush Vanessa’s hair back. Realizing she wanted to check her neck, Ethan helped, until they found what they were looking for on the right side of her neck: a mostly healed bite mark.

 

“Excellent,” Miss Hartdegen let out a relieved sigh, “That makes this easy then.”

 

She produced a knife from a bag Ethan just now realized she’d brought with her, along with two rags and a bottle of some kind of alcohol. The last thing she pulled out appeared to be a bottle of holy water. He frowned as she poured some of the alcohol over the knife.

 

Ethan stopped her with a hand on her wrist as she lowered the blade towards Vanessa’s skin and asked quietly, “Are you sure?”

 

“That it’ll work?” she responded, giving him a grim smile, “No, but I  _ am _ sure that this is our best option.”

 

They shared a long look, and finally Ethan gave in, letting go of her and nodding slightly. Vanessa clearly trusted her; that would have to be enough for him as well. The younger woman took a shaky breath, and moved again.

 

She was once more stopped; this time by Victor, who sighed and said, “Give me the knife and tell me what to do.”

 

They were the ones to share a look now. Miss Hartdegen reluctantly nodded and handed the knife over. Victor sterilized it again, and Miss Hartdegen told him to carefully reopen the bite wound. Once he indicated that he understood, she went looking for the one thing she hadn’t thought to bring with her.

 

She returned as he finished. She shooed him aside once more, and turned to Ethan, shoved the container she’d found at him and commanded, “There’s a good chance she’ll vomit, so hold onto this.”

 

He nodded, and watched as Miss Hartdegen poured the holy water on the other rag. She murmured something to herself-a prayer, he recognized-and then moved and pressed it to the now open wound on Vanessa’s neck. She continued with her prayer and Ethan realized that at some point he’d joined her, too, when she gave him a grateful look. It bolstered him; to know that she thought this would help Vanessa’s chances was all Ethan needed to continue. Acting almost on instinct he let go of the container briefly to fumble through his pockets.

 

Ethan found what he was looking for: Brona’s medallion. He had kept it with him always after he’d used it to save Vanessa. Still acting seemingly without thought, he brought it to her forehead and pressed it into her skin as he had on his day. The prayer he’d been saying along with Miss Hartdegen changed; now he repeated the same prayer as he had that terrible night when he’d had to exorcise Vanessa, over and over. 

 

It didn’t take long after that. One moment the room seemed to almost shake with the force and volume of their voices; the next, an inhuman noise tore from Vanessa. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped. Quickly remembering Miss Hartdegen’s warning earlier, Ethan reached for the container again. He managed to shove it in front of her face before she leaned over it and was violently sick.

 

Ethan placed his other hand-medallion and all-on her upper back, rubbing gently in an attempt to steady her. It was over fast.

 

“Vomiting blood is normal, I believe,” Miss Hartdegen stated to break the awkward silence, “The only other account of this type of thing working mentioned that happening.”

 

Vanessa whimpered pitifully. Ethan pressed his mouth to her temple, needing to try to comfort her in some way.

 

“Here,” Sir Malcolm said gruffly, approaching those on the floor, a handkerchief in hand. Ethan took it gratefully and cleaned Vanessa off.

 

“Well,” Victor said after a long moment, “Now that  _ that’s _ over, I think it might be best for an  _ actual _ doctor to examine both of you.”

 

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate as Victor set to work. Ethan moved away from Vanessa long enough to let him do so, putting away the medallion and helping Miss Hartdegen clean up.

 

“Thank you,” he told her softly. The younger woman nodded at him in understanding, and gave him a small but genuine smile.

 

“We’ll need to monitor her, of course, but I think she’s alright,” Victor declared, and then added to Ethan, “I should examine you as well.”

 

He shook his head, “At Grandage Place. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

 

They could all agree with that sentiment. Vanessa was unable to stand on her own, so Ethan wordlessly picked her up. She protested a little but the look on his face stopped her. 

 

The walk back was silent, all of them caught in their own musings. Vanessa fell asleep as they neared Grandage Place. Kaetenay was waiting for them outside when they arrived, much to everyone’s great relief. Ethan was glad that their plan had succeeded, with none of their allies hurt because of their curses.

 

There was a brief, hushed argument about where to take Vanessa. Eventually Ethan convinced them that the guest room would be a better place for her. He was careful when he put her down. The minute his arms were free, Victor was demanding he be examined. Ethan stepped out so he could do so and so Sir Malcolm could dress Vanessa in something else.

 

Once Victor begrudgingly deemed Ethan sufficiently healthy to be free-so long as he was careful with the bruises he’d sustained-and Sir Malcolm had left, Ethan didn’t hesitate to enter the guest room. He pulled one of the chairs to the bed next to Vanessa and sank down into it, finally feeling the full weight of his exhaustion.

 

She looked so vulnerable in sleep. He was relieved to see that already color was returning to her body, the red around her eyes disappearing. Whatever they’d done had clearly started to take effect.

 

All Ethan could think to do was pray quietly that she would wake up soon, and that all would be well again.

 

-o-o-o-

 

The first thing she became aware of was pain. Every part of her body seemed to ache in some inexplicable way. She next became aware of something pressed against her arm. It was that that made her struggle to open her eyes. Her heart caught in her chest at the sight that awaited her: Ethan had fallen asleep in a chair next to the bed she was in-his bed, she noted-and it was his head that lay against her now.

 

Vanessa couldn’t stop herself from reaching one shaky hand to his hair, heart clenching in pain at how short it was as she ran her fingers through it. What had they done to him?

 

He awoke with a start, and Vanessa quickly retracted her hand, an apology on her lips. When his eyes met hers all the tension in his body seemed to leave him, his shoulders sagging with relief. His eyes were filled with so many emotions she couldn’t discern, and she waited to see who would be the one to break the silence.

 

Eventually Ethan asked softly, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Hurts,” she admitted, “But I’m quite well, I think.”

 

He smiled and let out a huff of amusement, “Would you like something for the pain? I’m sure Victor’s still around somewhere. You know how he gets.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, wincing a little as it intensified the pain, “May I just have some water, please?”

 

“Of course,” he replied, already up and moving. Someone had filled the jug in the room at some point, much to his relief as he poured some into a cup and brought it to her.

 

She struggled a little to sit up, but eventually managed to do so. He brought the cup to her lips and she drank, trying not to think of the devil’s mind games as she did so.

 

“How do I know you’re real?” Vanessa hadn’t meant to say it-and certainly not so loudly-but it was too late; the words registered on his face, confusion settling in.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, putting the cup aside and sitting in the chair.

 

“The devil,” she furrowed her brow, frowning as she tried to find the words through the exhaustion that seemed bone deep, “He would attempt to seduce me through visions of safety. By taking the guise of others. He took your face once. I don’t-”

 

“What do you need?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, unable to find the words. Sensing this, he decided to let his instinct guide him. He reached out and took her hand in his and gently squeezed it, bringing her sharp focus back to him.

 

“I am both your sworn protector,” he swallowed hard and forced the next words out, “And the man who has failed you worse than anyone else.”

 

She cried a little after that, took a shuddering breath and replied, “You came back for me.”

 

“Leaving you was my worst mistake,” he admitted softly, “I’m sorry.”

 

Vanessa realized then that he was crying, too, and trying to hide it. It was what finally convinced her that this was real. Relaxing she turned her hand in his to tug at him. He gave her a confused look, so she told him, “Come here.”

 

He did so. She moved over to the other side of the bed and he slowly-carefully-lowered himself to her now vacated spot. Ethan hesitated for a moment before opening his arms. Despite the blankets between them Vanessa managed to burrow her face into his chest. He pressed his mouth to the top of her head, and basked in the comfortable silence that had descended.

 

Vanessa slowly fell asleep again, and Ethan felt himself beginning to drift as well. As sleep overtook him, he sent a silent thank you to God for returning Vanessa to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try to stick to a once a week schedule, but it may be a little more or a little less. I do have a good amount written though already, so I should be able to keep that promise.


	3. learning to live again (or, life goes on)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm sorry I didn't get this up last week-I was sick for over a week, and then some shit happened in real life that knocked me off balance. Anyways, merry Christmas if you celebrate, and I hope you enjoy! :)

They were both startled awake by the knock on the door. Ethan was alert instantly, but Vanessa woke more slowly, struggling to force her eyes open. He reluctantly untangled himself from her hold, and made his way to the door.

 

Sir Malcolm stood there, an unusually apologetic look on his usually stern face. He asked Ethan, “Has she woken up yet?”

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, and stepped aside to let the older man in. Sir Malcolm only hesitated for a brief moment before doing so, unsure of what state he might find Miss Ives in.

 

She was sitting up in the bed, leaned against a stack of pillows. At the sight of Sir Malcolm a small smile spread on her face. It was quickly replaced by a neutral mask as Vanessa remembered all that had transpired and became suddenly wary of what he might have to say.

 

“Would you like a moment alone?” Ethan asked, feeling the need to assess the situation in the subtlest way possible.

 

“Please,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper and giving him a tight smile in an attempt to reassure him. Nodding again, Ethan left, closing the door behind him.

 

He found the others downstairs. It was Miss Hartdegen who broke the tense silence, “How is she?”

 

“She’ll be alright,” he responded after a moment. 

 

A thoughtful look appeared on the young woman’s face, as she seemed to debate whether or not to press him for more information. Miss Hartdegen let out a shaky sigh, seeming to decide against it. Instead she asked, “Would you like something to eat? Kaetenay made something a few hours ago.”

 

“Sure,” he agreed, “Thank you.”

 

He followed her into the kitchen. Their walk was spent in an uneasy silence, both of their thoughts filled with concern for Vanessa.

 

-o-o-o-

 

“How do you feel?” Sir Malcolm finally asked, having become tired of the awkward silence that had quickly filled the room in the wake of Ethan’s departure.

 

“I think I’ll survive,” she responded, aiming for playful. The look on Sir Malcolm’s face remained serious and worried, a pitying sort of sadness in his eyes that she instantly loathed.

 

“Vanessa…” he breathed.

 

“Don’t,” she shook her head, frowning.

 

“Don’t what?” he asked, confused.

 

“Stop pitying me,” her expression hardened, “I know what I have done, how far I fell. I do not need to see it written on your face whenever you look at me!”

 

Another tense silence descended upon the room after she snapped at him. Sir Malcolm was taken aback by her fury; Vanessa closed her eyes as shame and exhaustion overwhelmed the lingering rage.

 

“If I had known you would be alone, I would not have left when you were so vulnerable,” he couldn’t help the way his voice broke but he forced himself to continue, “I have lost two children Vanessa. I could not bear to lose another.”

 

She couldn’t help the shuddering breath nor the sob that quickly followed it at his earnest response. Sir Malcolm stood from where he’d taken a seat by her bedside and sat on the bed itself, pulling her into him as she cried. He shelved the mild discomfort it brought him, knowing that what Vanessa needed most right now was to not feel alone. Sir Malcolm had to fight back tears of his own; at the guilt of leaving her so vulnerable, at the remembrance of the two children he had failed, at the relief of having Vanessa back and  _ safe _ .

 

“How could I have done that to her?” her words were muffled by his shirt, and it took him a moment to realize what she meant.

 

“Vanessa-”

 

“I knew what he was, what he had done,” she let out another shaky breath as she attempted to gather herself, “I knew what he had done to her-our beloved Mina. How could I have just given myself to him so readily?”

 

Sir Malcolm waited until she calmed somewhat, formulating a response that would not upset her further. He found himself suddenly exhausted as well, at the reminder of Mina. 

 

“We are all capable of terrible things when we are desperate,” he replied, somehow managing to keep his voice steady throughout.

 

“I’m not sure I can live with myself anymore,” she admitted quietly after another period of silence.

 

Sir Malcolm frowned at the admission and responded, “You were not yourself.”

 

Vanessa let out a hollow sounding laugh, “And yet I was. I was more myself than I have ever been before.”

 

He pulled away from her then, though he remained sitting on the bed. He forced her with a hand under her chin to look at his face as he spoke, “We did not save you just to let you die.”

 

“A selfish act,” she scoffed.

 

“If it was selfish then so be it,” he shook his head, “You know I am not a man of many words, Vanessa. I cannot comfort you the way you long to be. But know this: I do believe that the world is better off with you in it.”

 

“I’m  sorry, but I cannot accept that,” her voice was dull, lifeless almost. Sir Malcolm sighed, deciding that Ethan was perhaps better equipped to handle this than he was.

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking for an excuse to leave.

 

Vanessa simply shrugged in response. Mind made up, Sir Malcolm stood. He took her hand in his briefly and squeezed it, waiting until she looked at him to let go.

 

“Get some rest,” he told her softly. She nodded at him almost imperceptibly, and he left the room, deciding to get both Ethan and some sort of food for Vanessa.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Ethan turned to look behind him at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Sir Malcolm entered the parlor, a haggard expression on his face. Instantly, Ethan found himself on alert, knowing that his expression was related to Vanessa.

 

“May I have a word?” he asked Ethan.

 

Ethan nodded, and the older man gestured to follow him. Ethan did so, following the older man into the kitchen. He leaned against the table in the room, watching in confusion and slight concern as Sir Malcolm rummaged around, muttering under his breath.

 

“What is it?” Ethan asked, and the man almost jumped.

 

“Is there no food she might be able to tolerate?” he growled.

 

“There’s some bread,” he responded, “Probably enough vegetables to make a soup. I can do that if you’d like.”

 

“No,” Sir Malcolm shook his head wearily, “No, I’ll do it myself. You should go see to her.”

 

“Something happened,” Ethan deduced, and watched as the older man seemed to deflate, slumping over and gripping the edge of the sink, faced away from him.

 

“I am not the man she needs right now,” he admitted, “I cannot comfort her the way she needs to be comforted.”

 

Ethan sighed, walked to him, and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder, “Let me make her a cup of tea first, at least.”

 

Sir Malcolm nodded. Ethan made the tea as quickly and quietly as he could as Sir Malcolm worked on chopping vegetables. He wondered briefly where the older man had learned to cook, and then decided it was best not to ask. 

 

Ethan forced himself to make his way upstairs slowly, careful not to spill any of the tea. He knocked on the door, waited a moment, and then let himself in. Something loosened within him at the sight of Vanessa, asleep. Ethan placed the tea on the fireplace mantle, and went over to her. 

 

He carefully sat on the edge of the bed, brushing some of the hair that had fallen into her face aside. She mumbled something in her sleep, face turning slightly to chase after his touch. His heart clenched at the sight, and he couldn’t stop himself from placing a hand on her cheek. Ethan watched as Vanessa slowly began to wake up again.

 

“Hey,” he whispered to her.

 

“Hello,” her reply was equally soft.

 

“I brought you some tea,” he informed her, voice gentle.

 

“Thank you,” she smiled at him sweetly.

 

It took Ethan a moment to let go of her, but then he was getting up to grab the tea and bring it to her. Vanessa sat up and accepted the cup from him. He sat on the edge of the bed once more, hands hovering near hers in case she dropped the cup. The silence was comfortable; neither of them felt pressured to say anything.

 

“Sir Malcolm was worried about you,” he finally broached the topic. He watched as a scowl passed over her face.

 

“I’m fine, Ethan,” she insisted, an edge of warning in her tone.

 

Heedless, he plowed on, “He’s making you soup right now. I didn’t know the man could cook, did you?”

 

She answered almost dismissively, “He often oversaw things in his household, and of course there was the time he spent in Africa. I am quite sure that he managed to learn something therein.”

 

Ethan sighed, “Vanessa-”

 

“Please, Ethan,” she cut him off, “I’m tired.”

 

He nodded, dropping the subject. She relaxed a little after that. Once she was done with the tea he took the cup and put it down again. When he returned there was a contemplative look on her face.

 

Ethan asked, “What is it?”

 

“I’d like to take a bath,” she admitted.

 

“I don’t want you to do it alone,” he frowned, considering, “You’ve been in and out of it since…”

 

Vanessa let out a frustrated sigh, “Please.”

 

Ethan relented after a tense moment, “If you can walk to the bathroom yourself, then I’ll sit outside in case you need help. Otherwise I’ll see if Miss Hartdegen or Dr. Seward can be there to monitor you.”

 

“Fine,” she relented in turn, knowing that it was a losing battle. Ethan was just as stubborn as she was.

 

To their mutual surprise-and relief-Vanessa made it to the bathroom on her own; albeit on shaky legs. She gave him a triumphant smile, vaguely reminiscent of the more mischievous smirks she had once directed at him.

 

“Alright,” he smiled back at her in turn, admitting defeat. Her grin widened at that, and his heart was filled with affection at how pleased with herself she was.

 

Vanessa sobered and asked, “Would it be too much to ask you to retrieve a fresh nightgown?”

 

“Of course not,” he answered quickly.

 

They parted then. He made his way to her room. As he rummaged through her things he wondered if he should ask her if she wanted to move some of her things to his room, or if that would too presumptuous of him. Ethan decided it was the latter; there was no guarantee she would be staying in that room after all, now that she was healing. He knew he wanted her in sight, and not in this room that had seen all manner of horrible things. Ethan decided to argue his case if it came to that rather than hold back.

 

He returned, knocking hesitantly on the door and announcing himself. She told him to come in, and so he opened the door. He opened it only the bare minimum, and pointedly averted his eyes from the bathtub, carefully placing the requested clothing on the counter next to the sink. She thanked him after he turned to leave, and he closed the door behind him.

 

True to his promise, he remained outside the bathroom until she emerged, looking moderately more relaxed than before. He smiled at her in relief, and escorted her back to the guest room. Sir Malcolm awaited them, a tray in hand.

 

All three of them entered the bedroom. Ethan carefully helped to settle Vanessa onto the sofa at her insistence that she was tired of being in bed. Both men took it as a good sign that she was improving and her request was met with no argument. They watched in anxious anticipation as the tried the soup first, and then the bread. After a few tense moments, she began to eat in earnest, Ethan and Sir Malcolm relaxing. A mild, fond sort of amusement overtook them both as they realized that they’d never seen her eat so much in one sitting before.

 

After she was done, Sir Malcolm took the tray from her and left. Ethan moved from the chair he’d been sitting in to sit next to her. She smiled tiredly up at him and let him wrap an arm around her shoulders. They sat quietly like that for a while, content in basking in the peacefulness of the silence around them.

 

“Will you let me stay here tonight?” she eventually asked.

 

“Of course,” he frowned down at her, “You can stay in here as long as you’d like.”

 

“Good,” she replied, and left it that. 

 

-o-o-o-

 

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Everyone seemed to have come to an uneasy impasse. Things were not where they should be, but they could all agree they were getting there. Vanessa ended up moving most of her things into Ethan’s room. Although they shared a bed every night, neither was entirely sure of what they were, exactly. Vanessa was in no place to start anything, and Ethan was still wracked with guilt over what his absence had inadvertently caused. They were inseparable, and yet they were both privately certain that it could not last.

 

Mr. Lyle returned after about two weeks, claiming to have just  _ known _ Vanessa was in terrible danger. Though he intended to return to Egypt again, he had had to be sure that she was alright. He was initially cold and borderline hostile to Ethan. Vanessa had spoken with him in private, and though Ethan had no idea what she’d said to him, Mr. Lyle begrudgingly began warming back up to him. Vanessa explained to him as they lay tangled in bed that night that he had been the only one there for her. Her back was to him so he could not see her face as she said it, but he could feel her breath shuddering and knew that she was crying. Ethan simply buried his face in her hair, held her tighter, and closed his eyes, guilt washing over him once more.

 

Ethan was out on an errand when their next surprise visitor stopped by. Vanessa answered the door herself, as no one else was at Grandage Place. They disliked leaving her alone now (as did she herself), but they’d all had too many things to attend to in the days before Christmas to avoid it.

 

John Clare looked worse than she’d ever seen him. Vanessa let him in, leading him to the parlor.

 

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, and he shook his head. The silence that followed was tense, and became more awkward by the minute.

 

Finally, he broke it, “I apologize that it has taken me so long to call. I heard that you were not well.”

 

“Yes,” she smiled tightly.

 

“My son died,” he told her, “A few weeks ago. He was already sick, but that fog…”

 

Vanessa inhaled sharply at the reminder of what she’d done, and the growing horror at this evidence of how what she had done affected people. She found herself unable to speak, and Mr. Clare looked at her in confusion. She could not see him; she was not entirely sure of what was happening anymore. 

 

“Miss?” she could hear someone calling her through the haze of panic that had seized her so entirely in its grip.

 

“Vanessa?” a different voice, one that had called to her, again and again.

 

Then he was there, kneeling in front of the chair she was sat in, rigid as stone. He gently took her hands-which were grasping so tightly at her skirt the knuckles had long since gone white-and squeezed them. She found enough of herself to slowly meet his eyes; the fear in them was palpable.

 

“Ethan?” she breathed, confused. 

 

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice a soothing anchor, “I’m right here.”

 

“Shall I go?” Mr. Clare asked, and his voice sounded broken and confused.

 

Vanessa drew in a shaky breath and managed to reply, “I’m sorry, I am not quite myself yet.”

 

“That’s alright, miss,” he attempted a smile for her, “I’ll return when you feel better.”

 

“Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded at her, standing and leaving.

 

Once the door closed behind him Ethan asked, “What happened?”

 

“His son died,” her voice trembled with barely suppressed emotion, “Because of me.”

 

The silence that followed was deafening and too long as Ethan attempted to think of what the best thing he could say or do was. Finally deciding that there  _ was _ nothing that could truly heal that, he started, “Vanessa-”

 

“Don’t,” she shook her head, snatching her hands back from him, “Don’t tell me it wasn’t me, just  _ don’t _ .”

 

“Okay,” he breathed, “I won’t. But you are  _ not _ alone in this. We all made choices that led us here. We can’t change them.”

 

“How do we live with them?” she whispered, hating how childlike she must have sounded in that moment.

 

“By doing our best to do better,” he replied simply, and she marveled at him for a long moment. 

 

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” her defeated whisper nearly broke him, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling her to the floor with him, wrapping himself around her as entirely as he could manage. She let out a shaky sigh and burrowed into him. This was the only thing left that was even remotely safe.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Christmas turned out to be a rather morbid affair. Of those who were religious-or previously so-there was a sense of gloomy reluctance to the whole thing, after everything they’d seen. For the others, they simply did not care about the holiday, and only came to Grandage Place for the gathering Sir Malcolm had insisted upon because it would be Mr. Lyle’s last day in London before his return to Egypt.

 

Vanessa especially was not enthused by the holiday. Where Ethan had become more faithful after his plight, Vanessa had become even less so. He did not push her, but there was a tension there she sensed would eventually be snapped. She dreaded the day.

 

The gifts given seemed, all in all, rather perfunctory; but that was to be expected, she supposed. Victor had gifted her a book of poetry he thought she might find interesting; Ethan had gotten her something for her hair; she had gotten all three men guns she thought they might like, a last minute purchase when the guilt of not getting them anything overwhelmed her, despite their insistence that it would be alright if she got them nothing. She could not remember what exactly the others had given her, or what she’d gotten them, if anything. Vanessa spent the whole of Christmas feeling disconnected, and if anyone else noticed, they were kind enough not to mention it.

 

After dinner that evening, when everyone who did not live at Grandage Place had departed, she sat with Sir Malcolm and Ethan in front of the fire in the parlor. Sir Malcolm had asked if he might have a word with them, and they’d warily agreed. Both briefly wondered if it might have something to do with the nature of their current relationship; they had seen glimpses of something inexplicable in the older man’s eyes at times, but his thoughts about what he saw were a mystery.

 

“I think it might be beneficial for both of you to get away from London,” he started, mildly surprising Ethan and Vanessa.

 

Ethan looked at Vanessa, and then back to Sir Malcolm before asking, “What did you have in mind?”

 

“There is a man I know, who has a house in the lake district,” Sir Malcolm looked at Vanessa as he plead his case, “He has agreed to rent it to me for the year, if you’d like. The nearest town is not so far as to be more than a day away, but it is also fairly secluded, with few other houses nearby. Perhaps getting away from this city would be a chance to allow you  _ both _ to heal and reflect over the events of this year.”

 

There was a long pause as Ethan and Vanessa considered. She looked at him after a moment, and they communicated without words; he gave a slight nod, and in it she heard his words from over a year ago echoed:  _ I’m with you _ .

 

“I would be amenable to that,” she decided, and Ethan nodded his assent.

 

“Very well then,” Sir Malcolm smiled at them, a genuine smile, “The house will be available as of the sixth of January.”

 

With that settled, they spent a while yet in front of the fire, talking in low, familiar whispers, a rare moment of peace and comfort all three members would reflect upon fondly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna do my best to add more sooner rather than later but we shall see if life lets me. Just know I don't plan on abandoning this story any time soon, and that I have a vague concept of where I'm going with this-I just need to put that concept into actual words. :)


	4. a perfect end (and a fresh start)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sorry this took so long real life is a bitch and sometimes you gotta spend two months fighting various university offices to be able to stay at university. Good times. I'll try to be better about updates. I will never abandon this work though no matter how long it takes. Anyways without further ado here is the fourth chapter.

The past month had passed so fast, that Ethan found himself surprised when Kaetenay came to him one day shortly after Christmas at the end of December and told him that that night would be the full moon. It bothered Ethan that he had forgotten, and Kaetenay knew it too, though for once he had the sense not to irritate Ethan about it. In the past month, the two men had reached an uneasy understanding of sorts. They could never be friends, but Ethan could begrudgingly admit that the older man’s presence had gradually begun to enrage him less whenever he stopped by Grandage Place.

 

He did not ask Kaetenay where he planned to be that night, nor did Kaetenay tell him. Ethan was sure that wherever it would be, it would not be something Ethan would approve of in any way. That bothered him too, but he found himself too preoccupied with figuring out the logistics of what to do himself to focus on it for any length of time.

 

It was Vanessa who found him late that afternoon, his head in his hands in the parlor. They were alone in the house; he was mulling over his options. Ethan was unsure as to when Sir Malcolm would return, and he could not risk being unchained when the transformation happened. Despite what had occurred at the last full moon, Ethan loathed the idea of involving Vanessa in any way. He was not sure he’d be harmless to her when he had no one to protect her from, and was still unwilling to take the risk that he might hurt her in such a state.

 

“Ethan?” her voice was soft, and he looked up to find her standing in front of him, a worried look on her face.

 

“Do you happen to know when Sir Malcolm will be back?” he finally asked, after a long period of tense silence.

 

“No,” she frowned, moving to sit on the sofa next to him.

 

“It’s been almost a month you know,” he told her, a cautious tone to his voice.

 

“I am aware,” she replied, and he looked at her as the realization began to dawn on her and she murmured, “Oh.”

 

“I didn’t realize it was tonight either,” he huffed out a bitter sounding laugh, “Kaetenay had to remind me.”

 

“What will you do?” Vanessa asked.

 

“There was one time that Sembene chained me in the basement,” he informed her, choosing his words carefully, “The night of Dorian’s ball. I was going to ask Sir Malcolm to do the same, but…”

 

“I’ll do it,” she replied, voice firm in its conviction.

 

“No,” he shook his head vehemently, “I don’t want you to have any part in this.”

 

“Ethan,” her tone was sharp, “You cannot hurt me.”

 

“There’s no one to protect you from! You don’t know what I could do to you in that state without that driving me,” he exclaimed, and felt more than saw Vanessa flinch.

 

“Nor do you,” Vanessa snapped.

 

The anger left Ethan immediately at her equally impassioned response. He took a deep breath, shuddering as he let it out. He felt one of Vanessa’s delicate hands come to rest tentatively on his back. When he made no acknowledgement of it, she began to absently rub circles there in an attempt to soothe him. 

 

Closing his eyes, Ethan finally responded, “Fine.”

 

“You’ll let me chain you then?” Vanessa asked for confirmation.

 

“Yes,” Ethan swallowed thickly, “But you need to leave before the actual transformation happens.”

 

“I will,” she promised, and they both knew at that moment that she’d do no such thing.

 

-o-o-o-

 

When Ethan came to the next day, he woke slowly, as usual. When he found enough of himself to open his eyes, it was to the sight of a small figure on the stairs. He blinked, frowning as it took him a while to adjust enough to make out who or what it was. His heart clenched with guilt as his suspicions were confirmed: it was Vanessa, hunched over in an uncomfortable position near the bottom of the cellar stairs, asleep. He could tell her sleep was troubled when she began to fidget, and found himself straining against his shackles.

 

His dilemma was short lived; soon after, Vanessa woke up with a hoarse scream. Her eyes blinked awake rapidly, choked, panicked sobs falling from her lips.

 

“Vanessa,” he breathed her name, and her sharp focus alighted upon him.

 

“Ethan,” the way she said his name like both a prayer and the answer to it made him struggle harder. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she remembered, and she practically stumbled over her own feet to reach him.

 

Her hands were shaking so badly that she had trouble uncuffing him. As soon as he was free, she was in his arms. Ethan was unsure if he had grabbed her, or if she had grabbed him; nevertheless, they spent a good while in the cellar of Grandage Place clinging to one another.

 

Ethan could not find the courage within himself to ask Vanessa why she had spent the night asleep on the stairs, but he didn’t need to. He already knew. The heavy, sinking feeling that ached within his chest and stomach that existed whenever confronted with the blatant truth of what he’d done to her made itself known, guilt blooming anew.

 

He was too much of a coward to dwell on wondering just how sharp that feeling would be, if he were able to convince her to tell him the full extent of the trauma he had caused.

 

-o-o-o-

 

In the days right before their departure from London, it seemed to Ethan as if Vanessa acted with a renewed sense of purpose. It was as if the preparations for their trip had awakened some long dormant part of her. For the most part, Ethan kept out of her way; it was good to see Vanessa throw herself into something. 

 

The idea of leaving London had rejuvenated Ethan, too, as they got closer to the day when they’d be able to do so. Sir Malcolm had been right; there were far too many demons in London, and the knowledge that soon they’d leave the city behind (if only for a year) had stirred something inside of him as well. Despite the uncertainty and precarious stability of their relationship-whatever it may have been-Ethan could not deny that he was looking forward to spending time in solitude with Vanessa. Perhaps, as Sir Malcolm had suggested, they could use the time and new location to reflect and heal. Ethan found himself tentatively hopeful about the prospect.

 

They had decided to leave two days prior; the journey was long, and would be best broken up-they’d find inns along the way. They’d said their goodbyes the night before; Sir Malcolm had hosted a dinner for their friends. It had been a nice-if not somewhat bittersweet-affair, the nervousness finally beginning to settle upon them both as they realized they would soon be alone for a long period of time. Their friends-especially Sir Malcolm-had promised to be only a letter away if they were needed, but it would hardly be the same.

 

They were silent in the carriage at first. Sometime shortly after they’d left London, Vanessa had fallen asleep. Ethan, sitting across from her, passed the time simply watching over her. Her sleep had been particularly troubled the night before, likely a result of the anxiety they had both begun to feel. It was as if all their doubts and insecurities were beginning to rise to the surface. Ethan found himself apprehensive; the more days passed, the stronger the tension between them grew, and the clearer the rift between them became.

 

It was most noticeable in the little moments. Ethan would thoughtlessly reach out to Vanessa during a quiet lull in their day, when she was not particularly distressed. When he brushed a hand across her shoulder on the way out of the room, she would stiffen, and he knew that she was restraining herself from pulling away from his touch. If he absently took her hand, she would let her own rest lifelessly in his, making no move to reciprocate or detach herself entirely. The only time Ethan was aware of himself enough not to touch her as if it were an everyday occurrence was at night, when they were in bed together. He’d let her come to him; when she was particularly upset, he’d curl around her from behind, shielding her small frame with his own. 

 

It was difficult to navigate the waters they’d found themselves in, he thought. When Vanessa was in distress, she clung to him, welcoming his touch with a quiet desperation that spoke volumes in its own right. The intimacy of how they shared his bed and held one another was tempered by the fact that it was borne of necessity; Vanessa simply could no longer sleep alone, and Ethan did not want to let her out of his sight whenever possible. Occasionally, Vanessa would reach out to him in some way; to soothe, or to remind herself that he was there, perhaps. But the times when he touched her casually, unaware of himself reaching out to her-she froze, unable or unwilling to rid herself of his touch, and yet unable or unwilling to accept it.

 

And so they found themselves in limbo: a need for closeness under which simmered Vanessa’s resentment at his abandonment, and his regret and shame that were too great to confront her, to force that resentment to the surface.

 

Each day that passed, the sinking feeling of clarity grew: inevitably, there would be no choice; Vanessa’s resentment would make itself fully known. Ethan could only pray that they would survive it.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Their first night was spent at an inn. A need for maintaining pretenses led Ethan to renting two rooms for the night. The suspicious look the innkeeper gave them both as he reluctantly handed over the keys to Ethan told him that they had been unsuccessful at doing so. Nevertheless, money was money, and so they found themselves allowed to stay.

 

They’d eaten dinner in silence, too tired and lost in thought to make conversation. After dinner Vanessa announced a desire to take a bath, and so Ethan washed up with the jug in their room and climbed into bed. She returned, wet hair sticking to her dressing gown as she pulled it off. When she turned her back to him to put away the clothes she’d worn, he could just slightly see the pale expanse of her back where the water from her hair and body had made the nightgown somewhat translucent. He could just barely see the beginnings of the brand on her back, and it was that that caused him to look away. It was a line he dared not cross; he had a good idea of her feelings on the matter of showing it to another.

 

“It’s cold,” she murmured, voice muffled against the skin of his neck after she’d climbed into bed and pressed herself against him.

 

He barely suppressed a chuckle at the petulance in her tone. He ran his fingers through the still wet mass of her black hair. She let out a contented sigh and the hand on his back tightened its grip on his shirt; she was too sleepy to do anything more than relax into his touch. 

 

“That’s because you just took a bath,” he informed her.

 

She made a noncommittal noise, attempting to burrow further into him. Ethan untangled his hand from her hair with minor reluctance in favor of wrapping the blanket around her tighter, followed by pulling her as close to him as possible.

 

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and soft against the top of her head.

 

Vanessa nodded, and then they didn’t talk anymore. Ethan knew by now when Vanessa was asleep; the hand against his back would slacken, her breathing against his neck evening out. He could never fall asleep before her; his desire to protect her was too strong to allow such a thing. Ethan would be awake until she no longer needed him to be, and then he would allow himself to join her in slumber.

 

-o-o-o-

 

They set out again early the next morning, shortly after breakfast downstairs at the inn. This day dragged on slower than the last; Vanessa was restless the entire way, Ethan could tell. He did his best to distract her by filling the silence, but it wasn’t enough. And so by the end of the day, when they entered a different room at a different inn, Vanessa was irritable. The irritation rolled off of her in waves, and Ethan knew that most (if not all) of it was directed at him.

 

They barely spoke as they got ready. That was not unusual; in the rare times they’d had to get ready in the same room, silence was somehow less awkward. Ethan got into the bed first, and Vanessa joined him soon after. For the first time since his return, she made no move towards him.

 

It took all of his willpower to ignore the part of himself that wanted to close the distance on his own, but he managed. If whatever was bothering her was that bad and she was refusing to discuss what the problem was, he would not push her. Instead he lay awake, watching the rise and fall of her back as she slept, wondering what was troubling her and how he could get her to talk about it with him. 

 

When Ethan woke up the next morning, Vanessa was nowhere to be found. It made him uneasy, but it was not entirely unusual, so he set about getting ready. On instinct he made his way downstairs afterwards. She entered the inn just as he reached the bottom step, and they stared at one another until she averted her gaze.

 

“I was just making travel arrangements,” she told him, “We should be there in the early afternoon.”

 

“Thank you,” he responded, suddenly finding himself wary and unsure.

 

“Have you eaten?” she asked, though Ethan was sure she knew the answer.

 

“No,” he shook his head.

 

“Nor have I,” Vanessa gave him a tight smile.

 

Their breakfast was quiet and tense. They ate quickly, so that they would be able to leave faster. 

 

The last part of their journey was shorter, and Vanessa once more slept through most of it. Ethan again found himself watching over her. She did not wake once they had arrived, so he tried to wake her by simply saying her name. When that failed, he slowly reached out to brush some of her hair that had come loose behind her ear and murmured her name. That was enough; she woke with a start, and Ethan quickly made his apologies for startling her.

 

“We’re here,” he told her, once she’d calmed and acclimated enough.

 

“Oh,” she breathed, still not fully awake.

 

“Did you pay the driver?” he asked, suddenly filled with a nervous restlessness.

 

“Half,” she told him.

 

He nodded, “I’ll give him the rest then.”

 

He went and did so. When he returned, Vanessa was far more alert, and they were both able to take their things. They stood to watch the carriage pull away, and Ethan could not help but remember the day they had arrived on the moors. He wondered, briefly, if Vanessa did, too.

 

He did not have to wonder for long; a short while after the carriage got smaller and had nearly faded into the distance, he felt Vanessa’s small hand slip into his free one. He looked at her, surprised, but she did not look at him. She merely squeezed his hand and let go. Only after Vanessa dropped his hand did she look up at him, finally. There was something unreadable on her face, something that put Ethan on guard despite being unable to explain what it was.

 

“Shall we then?” she asked, breaking the tense silence.

 

Ethan nodded, “I believe Sir Malcolm wrote where the owner said he’d leave the key somewhere.”

 

“I have it,” she responded, fishing it out of the top of her bag.

 

The paper was creased and already worn thin; she’d been worrying at it, Ethan realized. Before he had any real time to process the implication of that discovery, Vanessa had readjusted her bag and set out to find the key.

 

From the outside, the place was only somewhat larger than the cut-wife’s cottage. Upon first glance in the inside, Ethan could tell that the house had been built for someone unaccustomed to the lack of creature comforts that often accompanied country living. There was a second floor, but rather than a simple loft there was an actual enclosed bedroom, with a large bed and a fireplace. Downstairs there was a wood burning stove, and a crude indoor bathroom. 

 

There was a fireplace downstairs as well, a sofa, and a large table for eating and cooking. There were also several chairs; at the table, near the fireplace and the sofa, and a lone rocking chair by the front door. There was a back door; when Ethan opened it, he realized that it led to the makings of a short path to a lake. There were two chairs here also, and a barrel for rainwater. Ethan made his way around the house; with two rainwater barrels and a lake, they would not find themselves short of water. There was a semi-enclosed pile of cut logs, so they would not need to cut wood right away either. The forest around them was different than the moors, but he was sure they could manage; he could vaguely recall Vanessa taking a few books on botany with her.

 

When he returned to the inside of the house, Vanessa had put their things upstairs and taken off her coat. She was standing at the stove, a pensive look on her face as she stared out the window.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, for lack of a better conversation starter.

 

“Yes,” she murmured, not turning to face him.

 

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

 

“Perhaps a while later,” she replied, finally turning to face him, “I feel quite tired.”

 

He nodded, “Get some rest then. I’ll get a fire going down here and sort through our supplies in the meantime.”

 

“Thank you,” the smile she gave him was genuine, albeit strained.

 

Vanessa did not leave right away. She stood there at the stove for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, looking at Ethan. When she did move, she caught him by surprise, moving towards him. She pressed her mouth to his cheek, murmured words of thanks again, and then pulled away and went upstairs without looking back.

 

Ethan stood frozen in place for longer than he would have cared to admit, wondering at what had just happened. Eventually he found the ability to move again, and used it to start a fire. He went through their supplies and found places to put them away. 

 

The insecurities and doubts they’d both felt since their departure finally manifested into a persistent uneasiness within Ethan. He knew that the only way to abate it would be to find a way to get Vanessa to talk to him honestly.

 

He just wasn’t sure how to go about doing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said I'll try to be better about updates but given that I have successfully beat the university into submission and am in school it might be a bit sporadic, sorry. I'll definitely try to be better with the next chapter(s) because they're all very connected.


	5. the uneasy routine of things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a breaking point-Ethan and Vanessa finally reach theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I am so so sorry that this took so long to post. Also chapter six is done or mostly done (haven't decided if I want to make it a little longer yet) and will be up sometime end of this week or beginning of next. This was a bit angstier than intended, you've been warned. Oops. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Ethan had fallen asleep hours prior, and yet Vanessa found herself unable to join him. Her attempts at sleep were fruitless; eventually she let out a huff against the skin of his neck and went about untangling from him as carefully as possible. When she had extracted herself and stood, she looked at him for a while, at the way his arm laid across the bed, hand grasping and brow furrowing as if searching for her even in sleep. Vanessa couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face at the sight, nor the way her heart clenched in her chest.

 

Vanessa moved to put on her dressing gown, stockings, and boots. She debated for a moment whether or not to take a gun with her; eventually she did so, with only a small amount of reluctance. The last thing Vanessa took with her was a cigarette, which she lit on one of the candles they had left burning on her way out of the bedroom.

 

The air was crisp and cold outside, the forest quiet save for the breeze as it occasionally rustled the leaves of the trees. In the distance she could hear the quiet lapping of waves against the shore of the lake. Vanessa thought back to her youth, to soaking her dresses in the sea as Mina reluctantly played along and Peter adamantly refused. She felt that same yearning now to go into the water, to see how far out she could go. 

 

Instead she leaned against the wall of the cottage, next to the back door, cigarette in one hand and gun in the other. She closed her eyes as she took a long drag, exhaling it slowly, focusing on what little noise there was in an attempt to relax herself. 

 

The sound of the door startled her, and Ethan mumbled apologies. She turned to face him and took him in, still clearly half asleep. Wordlessly Vanessa held out her cigarette, which he took, joining her against the wall.

 

“Couldn't sleep?” he asked, voice a low husky murmur as he passed the cigarette back to her.

 

She shook her head, taking a drag.

 

“Nightmares?” Ethan tried.

 

Vanessa merely shrugged in response. Ethan sighed, somehow feeling both more awake and more tired by her noncommittal response.

 

“Is it a nightmare if I could not sleep for it?” she asked, finally breaking her silence.

 

“No,” he swallowed thickly, “I suppose not.”

 

Vanessa nodded, and they were silent for a while, passing the cigarette until it was finished.  

 

She shivered a little as the wind picked up. Ethan noticed, stepping closer to her. He gave her a moment to adjust to his nearness before he wrapped his arms around her. Vanessa buried her face in his chest and sighed, letting him rub his hands up and down her back in an attempt to warm her.

 

“How is it that you are always so warm?” she asked, the question muffled by his undershirt.

 

Ethan chuckled a little, his voice full of barely contained affection when he replied, “I could ask you how it is that you’re always cold.”

 

Vanessa hummed noncommittally, accepting the retort for what it was as she finally, _finally_ began to feel tired. 

 

“Time for bed?” he asked, sensing that Vanessa was now ready.

 

When she nodded against him he reluctantly pulled back, and moved to hold the door for her. She smiled at him briefly as she brushed past him to go inside. She waited for Ethan to bolt the door, and when he turned it was to find her, an unreadable look on her face, hand stretched out. He took it and squeezed it gently. Satisfied, Vanessa lead the way back to the bedroom.

 

Ethan let go of her hand and closed the door while she removed her stockings, boots, and dressing gown and climbed into bed, and then followed her into it. He took a moment to pull the blankets up and tuck them tightly around her before settling in behind her, wrapping around her small frame. She mumbled her thanks, voice slightly muffled by a blanket that had half gotten in her face. 

 

Ethan fell asleep first, and Vanessa focused on him to try to relax herself enough to do the same. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, the puffs of his breath against her hair. She felt the intimacy of the one leg he had tangled between hers and his big hand resting protectively-possessively-against her abdomen, just below her breasts. Vanessa shivered a little and forced away the thoughts of how easy it would be to move that hand just a _bit_ higher in favor of closing her eyes, and covering the hand with her own.

 

After that, it did not take her long at all to join Ethan in sleep.

 

-o-o-o-

 

“I’ve never slept well, the first night in a new place,” she told him the next morning over breakfast. He was silent, studying her as she studied the bowl of porridge that she was pushing around with her spoon more than eating, a pensive look on her face. She looked up at him, a small but genuine smile on her face when she added, “The only exceptions were in the rare cases I’ve traveled a long enough distance to be tired out enough by it at the end of the day.”

 

“Even when you were going from house to house as a child?” he asked, curious and eager to know more about her.

 

“Yes, even then,” her smile became somewhat sadder then and more tense, “Even a familiar environment can feel foreign and a bit hostile when you have not visited in quite some time.”

 

“I suppose I just never really gave it much thought,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat now, “We only had the ranch, you see, but in the past several years all I’ve done is run from one place to another. There isn’t enough time when you’re surviving like that to really feel much about it after a while.”

 

“How difficult was it for you to leave?” Vanessa asked, all attention on him now, porridge forgotten. Ethan wanted to chide her, insist she eat more because she was practically skin and bone-but he knew better, and with the conversation amicable and mostly light he did not wish to risk changing that. There would be other times for that lecture, he was unfortunately sure.

 

“I was too numb at first for it to hurt,” he admitted after a long silence spent contemplating just what to tell her and how much, “But after a month or two… when I hit a lull, when I was safe for long enough, it hurt like hell. I warred with myself a lot, deciding one day to go back and confess my sins, beg for forgiveness; the next, I’d be off to Madrid or Rome or Saint Petersburg. Eventually I realized that if I kept myself moving and busy enough I wouldn’t have the time or energy to spend dwelling on it.”

 

Vanessa was silent for a while after that, going back to picking at her porridge. Much to Ethan’s relief she did occasionally take small, cautious bites from it, tentative movements like she was forcing herself for his sake-and he thought she probably was. He went back to his own breakfast, scraping the bowl clean and getting up to take it to the basin next to the stove to wash it, absently going through the motions of dipping a cloth into the bucket of water they’d brought indoors to do this with. 

 

It was when he had his back to her that he heard her voice, barely above a whisper, say, “I do not think that I could ever have the courage to do what you did-to survive like that.”

 

“Was it courage?” he asked, stiffening as his guard raised.

 

“I don’t even know what you did, Ethan,” she reminded him, voice still gentle but firmer, “But I do know that whatever it was was a mistake. You are a good man. Perhaps the only truly good man I have ever known.”

 

His laughter was a bitter, brittle sound as he shook his head and replied, “If you knew, you wouldn’t say that.”

 

“Then tell me,” she replied just as quickly and sharply.

 

Ethan sighed, taking a deep breath to steady and calm himself before turning back to face her. He was struck suddenly by how young she looked, the light of the early morning sun illuminating her in a way that was almost ethereal. She looked tired, hair mussed still from sleep because she hadn’t brushed it before coming down to join him for breakfast, having slept longer than him for once. Her dressing gown seemed too big on her, as did the nightgown. It dawned on him that she must have lost weight in her torment and felt a fresh stab of guilt at the realization. But she was still beautiful, from the mess of unruly black curls on her head to the delicate bones of her hands-one gripping her spoon tightly, the other balled in a fist on her lap-to the toes of both feet peeking out from the hem of nightgown and dressing gown. Ethan loved her no matter how she looked, good or bad but seeing her like this-so vulnerable and so truly _he_ , as she was meant to be-he was certain he had never loved her more.

 

He wanted so badly to say it out loud, and wondered what her reaction to the words would be. He wondered too, not for the first time, what exactly it _was_ they were doing-and what did they mean to each other, really? Ethan loved Vanessa-was _in_ love with her too, of that he was entirely sure-but was it enough to get through the mess he’d made of things? And what of her feelings? For all her rawness and vulnerability and sharp edges that she’d let him see, her true feelings for him remained somewhat of a mystery. Some days Ethan was certain she reciprocated, and that they’d be alright; others, he was entirely convinced that she secretly loathed him, that the resentment simmering barely beneath her surface was actually core deep and that she stayed with him out of a chidlike necessity borne solely of the fact that he had ultimately been the one to save her from herself.

 

“Fine then,” she muttered after realizing he wouldn’t answer her. She huffed as she got up, bowl in hand. She wasn’t gentle in the way she bumped him out of the way with her hip, and made a show of scraping the half full bowl of food into the trash next to the wash basin before angrily scrubbing it clean. 

 

This mercurial moodiness was not uncommon these days. Ethan merely was beginning to notice it more now; to _force_ himself to notice it, even when he would have gladly ignored it and let it be in favor of pretending they really were okay. That how they slept at night was because they were lovers, or at least friends-not two people who could seemingly barely stand one another outside of the limits of the codependency they’d accidentally created. 

 

As badly as he wanted to continue to pretend, he was increasingly sure that he wouldn’t be able to. With every passing day, their situation became more known to him-and it became more and more clear that it was not sustainable.

 

Whether or not they’d survive, he was sure, was entirely up to her.

 

If only he was certain that he could read how she felt as well.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Vanessa wondered about destiny-the nature of it, rather-a lot in the mainly uneventful first two weeks spent at the cottage. She did not share these thoughts with Ethan; she was still unsure how to approach him, to bridge the distance growing greater and greater between them. She wanted to; it was soul deep, her desire to be near to him, and she was entirely sure that it was not simply because he had saved her. And yet every time she thought that perhaps she would be able to _finally_ begin to mend the wounds between them, she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words on the tip of her tongue, or he became cagey when his own past was brought up. It was his defensiveness that made her avoid the topic with him as best she could-the same as he did for her with her own past. Ethan was not the only one unable to face who he was, and so it went for those two weeks: one step forward and two steps back, until by the end of them they barely spoke save for when they had to or had had enough to smoke or drink that the conversation was easy enough to forget, just for a little while, how it had come to this.

 

But what about destiny? They had fulfilled theirs-for the moment, though Vanessa dreaded the inevitable day the devil would return to her for speaking His language once more. He’d seen it as an invitation once; she was certain he would view it that way again, though that had never been her intent. Vanessa held no regrets or resentment, however; she would choose time and again to speak the Verbis Diablo if only to keep Ethan safe. It was the least she could do for him after he had saved her so many times in so many ways. 

 

If they had fulfilled their mutual destiny by saving one another, then why could she not help but feel so tied to him even now? Even when she became angry at him-on the days where the pain of what she’d done and how he’d left her cut so deep she could not help but lash out at him in her resentment and despair-she still wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as humanly possible. Vanessa suspected often that Ethan felt the same way. Though he was not always easy for her to read and understand, on this he was-and it made that resentment grow like a tumor, to know that he could feel this connection too and had abandoned her all the same in spite of it.

 

And so they spent their days together in a tense standoff. They walked through the unfamiliar woods with some of Vanessa’s books on botany, debating whether or not a plant was an edible one or something poisonous based on the drawings contained within and their own knowledge. They hunted small game-rabbits, mostly-though Ethan had found a fishing net somewhere in the cottage and so sometimes they fished from the lake as well. At night after dinner they sat beside the fire; sometimes reading from a book they’d brought or found in the house, or perhaps sharing a cigarette and talking. When they retired Vanessa always went upstairs first, Ethan giving her time to change before joining her. She usually woke first, and so often made breakfast; if Ethan woke before it was ready, he would come and take over. They helped one another with dinner and the other household chores, always. Despite the turmoil within them both and between them, they lived together easily. Domesticity suited them; it always had.

 

It was after dinner that night, as they passed a cigarette between them, that Ethan informed her he would make the trip into town the next day to get the supplies they were starting to run low on. He argued that given it was still winter and the weather was still fairly unpredictable, they would do well to make sure their stores were filled.

 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Vanessa asked, finally.

 

“No, that’s alright,” Ethan replied, then added quickly, “I think it might be good for both of us to have a little time to ourselves, at any rate.”

 

He did not say it, but he did not have to. She had been irritable the entirety of the day before, snapping at him on no less than four separate occasions. She felt a stab of shame and guilt, but also resentment; of course he’d want to run off and lick his wounds in private. She should have known not to expect anything different from him.

 

“Fine, then,” her reply was terse and somewhat harsh, as she took the cigarette back from him and stood abruptly, “Forgive me, but I find myself suddenly tired. I think I will be going to bed now.”

 

She did not wait for him to reply, and stubbed out the cigarette out of a childish need to spite him in any small way. Ethan let out an exasperated sigh, a sound so weary that Vanessa almost stopped and apologized. But instead she forced herself up the stairs, to go through the mechanics of changing into her nightgown and brushing her hair before bed.

 

Ethan entered the room as she ran the brush through her hair. He closed the door quietly, leaned against it and took in the sight of her. She did the same from the corner of her eye, suddenly wary of him. 

 

Eventually he moved towards her. His touch was gentle as he took the brush from her. Her brow furrowed in confusion until she felt it in her hair, far kinder than she was sure he truly felt. She tried to meet his eyes in the mirror, but he refused to look up from his task. She was sure he had something to say, and that this was his way of forcing her hand by making her unable to walk away from him again. Still, Vanessa couldn’t help herself, and inevitably relaxed into the gentle motions of the way he ran the brush through her long, thick hair. 

 

Once he sensed her surrender he stated, quietly even though they were alone, “I don’t really want to leave you either, even for a day. But we’ve spent so much time together and you’re clearly not happy, and I don’t know how to fix that. I want to, though. I think that spending a little less time together might be a way to start. What we’re doing… it’s not healthy, Vanessa. You _have_ to know that.”

 

She was quiet for a long time, and proud of herself that her voice did not break when she finally responded despite feeling on the verge of tears, “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

 

Ethan stopped brushing her hair, placing the brush down on the vanity next to her. Then he moved the chair with her still in it, pulling it back and turning it slightly. He knelt down so they were at eye level, so she could see the seriousness and the sadness in his eyes as he took her hands from her lap-he had to know she’d been digging the nails of one of her hands into the other in anxiety, she realized. 

 

“Do you want it to?” he asked, his voice gentle but serious.

 

Vanessa was silent for a while, struggling to force back the tears and the urge to beg him not to leave her. Eventually she nodded, a short, stiff movement, and forced herself to croak out, “Yes.”

 

Ethan sighed again, a small smile forming on his face, “Then we’ll figure it out, together. But please, try to trust me when I say that getting a little distance will be good for us- _both_ of us.”

 

Vanessa didn’t fully-couldn’t, maybe-but she wanted to, and so she forced herself to nod again. A moment passed, then another, after the affirming gesture. Ethan finally began to move, twining his fingers in her hair and pressing to the back of her skull to bring her forward, shifting himself so he could place his lips to her forehead. She let out a sob then, at the tenderness of the gesture. Ethan pulled back so he could pull her into a hug.

 

Only once Vanessa had calmed herself did he let her go, standing and moving. He undressed down to his pants and undershirt, climbing into bed. Vanessa took another moment to collect herself, and then went to join him.

 

They both slept fitfully that night.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Ethan rose just before dawn, taking his time getting ready and making breakfast. He debated whether or not to wake Vanessa before leaving, ultimately deciding it would be more cruel not to do so. So he returned upstairs, and woke her as gently as possible.

 

“There’s breakfast on the stove,” he murmured softly, “You’ll probably need to add more wood to heat it, but it should be fine when you’re ready to eat it.”

 

Vanessa nodded sleepily, still not fully awake yet. Ethan hesitated for only a moment before brushing her hair back and leaning forward to kiss her temple and say against in a soft murmur, “I’ll be back tonight. I’ll return as soon as I possibly can, I promise.”

 

She nodded, and then he left. She spent another hour or so drifting in and out of a restless sleep before eventually giving up and getting ready for the day before heading downstairs for breakfast.

 

Vanessa found that the day dragged on. After breakfast she went for a walk. Snow had fallen lightly the night before, but it was enough that her search for plants was unsuccessful. Nevertheless she set one snare in the hopes that perhaps she’d get lucky. When she returned to the cottage she made lunch, and after lunch she cleaned for lack of anything else to do. After that she walked to check the snare; nothing, but nevertheless she left it just in case. She read for a while after she returned, and then started on dinner. 

 

The cottage was far too quiet without Ethan, and she found herself missing him no matter what she did. She left dinner on the stove for him as he’d done with breakfast for her earlier that day, and then tried to read again. After a while she gave up and decided to smoke instead in the hopes that it would help her to relax.

 

When Ethan returned, it was well past dark. He was cursing under his breath and panting heavily from the strain of lifting a crate, and she could see past his silhouette that it was snowing again. Immediately Vanessa went to him.

 

“Let me help you,” she insisted gently.

 

“You can sort,” he replied gruffly, “This thing is too heavy even for me.”

 

Vanessa nodded, relenting easily. She was too glad to have him back in her sight to argue. Perhaps it should have worried her, how much she’d come to rely on him, but it was late and she could not quite bring herself to care that much.

 

They worked together in silence once Ethan had brought the crate in, sorting out items and where to put them. Ethan did not offer any information as to how the day went, and so neither did Vanessa. By the end of it they were both exhausted. Their routine was unchanged in spite of the day spent without the other.

 

Vanessa could find comfort in it, that nothing had really changed all that much after all.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Ethan went into town two days later, and came back still relatively early, having found someone with a cart willing to take him back. He became defensive when Vanessa inquired as to what he had bought, and so she did not push him, choosing instead to begin to ignore him whenever she could. 

 

It was a mere few days after that incident before dinner that she finally discovered what he had bought. She had gone to check the snares herself, and stopped at a sturdy tree. Her brow furrowed; the chains nailed into it had not been there a few days prior. She wondered at it, but it was not until she was on her way back that she finally realized what the irons were and why they were there.

 

Eyes widening in shock at the realization, Vanessa hurried her pace home, mentally calculating the days. Inevitably she came to the conclusion: tonight would be the full moon, and Ethan no doubt planned to chain himself outside. The snow from days prior had melted, but they were still in a cold snap. She couldn’t help the horror at the idea of him, alone and outside, chained to a tree. Fear warred with anger-anger at him for being so stubborn about the idea of letting her see him, _all_ of him-even the beast. By the time she had finally returned to the cottage, the anger had mostly won out, and it was this Vanessa-anxious and angry-that Ethan was confronted with when she stormed in the front door.

 

“What in the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” she hissed-yelled. Ethan startled a little at this display of emotional intensity, and slowly marked his page in his book and put it down as he turned to face her fully.

 

“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that,” he told her, voice calmer than he felt.

 

“The irons, in the woods,” she seethed.

 

“We don’t exactly have a cellar or a shed,” Ethan told her.

 

“That’s not the point!”

 

“Then what is?” he was finally shouting back.

 

Vanessa seemed to deflate a little, sadder somehow, “You’re hiding from me.”

 

“I’m _dangerous_ , Vanessa,” he growled, “Just because you refuse to see it…”

 

“The beast has _never once_ tried to harm me! I don’t think any version of you could physically hurt me!”

 

It was Ethan’s turn to deflate. He swallowed, nodded, and stood. He walked up close to Vanessa, towering over her so she could understand the gravity of his words when he finally replied, “How can we be absolutely _sure_ that I can’t or won’t hurt you when I’m like that with no other outlet? _How_? I’m not willing to take that risk.”

 

“But I am,” she insisted.

 

“It’s not your decision to make,” his voice was eerily calm, “And I’m sorry that I hurt you in other ways. But I’m not willing to take the risk of hurting you physically, too.”

 

With that he left before she could fully process his words. The sound of the door slamming behind him was cold, a harsh physical reminder of the last time he’d left. Vanessa suddenly felt like she was drowning, unable to breathe as she was brought back to that day and all the horrors that had come after. She was helpless to do more than sink the ground and sob until she felt like all of her-down to her very soul-was wrung out, thoroughly exhausted. 

 

She couldn’t help but think that maybe Ethan had just left with no intent to return, and it was with that thought that she forced herself up, to find his bottle of whiskey and start on it. 

 

Vanessa was not a huge lover of drink, but this was certainly an occasion that called for it if there ever was one.

 

After all, the man she loved had just walked out on her- _again_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so please don't kill for the cliffhanger, since chapter six is at LEAST 98% done now?? Also I should note from July 3 to August 7 I won't have Internet, so I am trying to have up these two connected chapters before I disappear. I think that this story will have around 10-12 chapters total, and my goal is to finish it by the end of the year if possible. Unfortunately school became insane last semester and my mental health tanked, and it just became easier to write oneshots drunk and/or high and post them than actually work on this. But this fic is my baby, the only project I have ever stuck with this long, and I will never abandon it-I promise. So even if it takes me time, I do intend to finish it. I have a general plan for it, and I really am sticking with it as best I can. So I hope you enjoyed, and I will have chapter six up by July 3 at the absolute latest before I go away. :) 
> 
> Also shoutout to vanessaschandler on Tumblr for helping me by listening to me the times I've needed help thinking of ideas for this chapter, especially for giving me the idea of Ethan needing to go somewhere and Vanessa being reluctant. I don't think that I could have written this chapter without you, so thank you so much for that.


	6. we sat and made a list of all the things that we had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much needed confrontation, and things finally begin to look up for Ethan and Vanessa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this today because it's done and I have a huge paper for my online class I need to do for tomorrow, and if I keep sitting on this chapter it might not get out till Saturday. Also part of this is a prompt fill for something sent to me on Tumblr, I'll explain more in the end notes. I hope you all enjoy!

Vanessa felt numb, empty. It was not an unfamiliar feeling; the weight of it felt almost comforting, in a twisted sort of way. Or perhaps the drink and lack of sleep had merely made her profound. She wasn’t sure anymore. She’d stopped drinking a few hours ago, when it had begun to make her feel sick, and now she sat with her knees tucked under her chin, arms around her legs to hug them to her chest in front of the fire, back to the sofa. Morning light was beginning to stream in to make Vanessa’s head pound faintly. She was not entirely certain if she was still drunk or just starting to become hungover-finally-but she just felt shaky and sick and hollowed out.

 

The door opening startled her, though the sound was faint-as if Ethan was trying to avoid waking her, perhaps-and she realized it must be later in the morning than she had first thought. She heard him heave a sigh, and imagined he was leaning against the door, steeling himself for a confrontation when he went upstairs.

 

A moment passed before she forced herself to say, weakly in a voice hoarse from crying, “I couldn’t sleep.”

 

He swore softly, and Vanessa knew instinctively somehow that it was not at her, but rather at himself. His footsteps were light as he slowly made his way to her, and she realized that he must be stiff and in pain. She did not quite know how to feel about that fact.

 

“Tell me,” he said, finally standing in front of her. She looked up, and when their eyes met he continued, “As far as I can see there’s only one way out of this, and that is for you to tell me everything. And I mean, _everything_ -what happened after I left you, how my leaving made you feel, how my being here now makes you feel. Don’t hold back.”

 

Seeing her hesitation he added, “I mean it. Even if it’s ugly, or you think it’ll hurt me, or you want it to hurt me… _everything_. Right now. I’m done dancing around this issue. Either you talk to me now or we have nothing left, Vanessa. And I don’t want to have nothing left.”

 

The break in his voice at the end was what made her reluctantly nod her assent, and Ethan took a shuddering breath and sat on the sofa. Vanessa stood, needing to pace as she did this, to be able to mull things over to figure out the best way to phrase what she was about to tell him. 

 

Her voice was a hoarse whisper when she began, “I was devastated, Ethan. Every single time I have opened myself up to loving another, one way or another it has ended in disaster. And yet I offered you my heart. Instead of being brave enough to do the same, you made a choice that was not only yours to make anymore and left. I would have faced whatever it was that you had done with you, gladly. Even if we had had to run forever, I would have run to the ends of the Earth and still been content, simply because you were by my side. I thought that I must have been wrong, that your interest in me was purely physical, perhaps friendly as well-that certainly no man who truly _loved_ me could be so cruel. I know now that’s not true. I cannot always tell what you think, but I _know_ you feel as connected to me as I do to you-in a way I cannot entirely and accurately explain. And now I wonder, if I’m right-and I am quite certain that I am-about how you feel about me, then how could you have possibly left me? I fell into a pit of despair, Ethan. I felt the full weight of my foolishness, and I had nothing. _No one._  It was just me, entirely, hopelessly alone.”

 

Ethan sucked in a sharp breath, but Vanessa wasn’t finished yet, “Dracula came to me in the guise of a zoologist. I was seeing an alienist, and finally beginning to do better. And here was a man truly interested in me-a good man, or so I thought. He was kind and sweet and gentle, and just what I needed him to be. I rather suppose that was the point. He manipulated me and my feelings, and when I came to care for him, I let my feelings be known. Despite how badly your leaving damaged me, I opened my heart for him. And though it was still not entirely his, he nevertheless accepted it. We consummated, and not a day later I discovered the truth of who he was. I set out to kill him, but I surrendered instead. I knew what he had done to my Mina-the first person I ever truly loved-and yet I surrendered anyways. He bit me and we fucked once more on the museum floor-is that what you want to hear?! And unlike the first time, I thought not once of you. Just him, just the ecstasy of finally, _finally_ surrendering, and not being in such pain anymore. I knew _why_ , finally-why the unending torment. And then I _really_ knew why, and people were dying, and it was my fault and I couldn’t stop it. Suddenly you were there and you were trying to save me, even though I knew myself a wreck beyond salvation. And when I saw him, about to kill you, I didn’t hesitate. I don’t harbor resentment towards you for making me speak the devil’s language again, nor do I regret it. I would do it over and over again-I would even go so far as to give my life for yours. Here we are now, and all I can wonder is _why_ it is you still don’t trust me, if one of your feet is not out the door, ready to run again at the first sign of trouble. It is cruel, perhaps, but is it wholly unfounded, Ethan?”

 

He let that sit for a long time before he told her, voice gentle and calm, “I did not fall as far as you did, but I did fall-I gave into Hecate and the dark plan she had for me. I was lucky in that it never came to fruition.”

 

“So we have both suffered, for your decision,” she nodded, pretending to contemplate.

 

He took in a shaky breath, “I don’t want to take away from what you just said-and believe me when I say that I am so, _so_ sorry Vanessa. If I could take it back, I would. In a heartbeat, without hesitation. I wish so badly that I could go back and choose differently.”

 

“But you cannot,” she replied coolly, “And you need to tell _me_ , now. Or else as you said, we have nothing left.”

 

He nodded, accepting the statement for what it was before saying, “I was young and pressured to join the military by my father. After my first attack, I couldn’t bear it. I infiltrated a camp-Kaetenay’s-and instead of betraying them, I helped them. I trusted them and accepted them as my family-as they did me, in their way. And they said they would just take our horses but they-they killed my family. All of them, save my father and me. My brother, Paul, my younger sister, Mary, Vanessa-and my mother. In front of us. My father had always despised me, seen me as weak but that-that was it for us. And like a coward, I ran. I couldn’t _stop_ once I started running, and my curse gave me the excuse to do so. When Brona died, I-a couple of bounty hunters, the one you killed included, found me. I was so filled with grief that when the beast came I let it rage, and I killed a lot of innocent people that night. I killed Sembene, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed. And I was so tired, too. I was filled with so much guilt and shame and self loathing that I let Hecate into my mind and I surrendered to her.”

 

“What changed?” she asked, voice small.

 

“Sir Malcolm and Kaetenay refused to give up on me,” he told her, a small, pained smile on his face, “And when the dust settled-Hecate, my father, the marshal and the inspector all dead-they told me that you were in trouble, that you needed me. And I didn’t hesitate to return to you, to save you. I have no regrets on that, either.”

 

They were quiet for a long time after that, both mulling over what the other had said and processing it, trying to determine how they felt. The honesty was both painful and exhilarating-Vanessa felt almost like she was floating, like a great weight had been lifted-but also like another had been put in its place, now that Ethan truly saw her for what she was. She imagined-or hoped, perhaps-that it must be the same for him as well.

 

“What now?” she asked, voice a tentative and soft sound.

 

“What do you need from me, going forward?” he countered.

 

“Honesty,” she replied, “And if you refuse to be unchained during the transformations, so be it-but you _must_ be in this cottage. I cannot bear the thought of you, alone and exposed to the elements like that. You _must_ trust me, that I know what I am asking of you. Please, believe in me like I believe in you.”

 

Ethan noticed the mostly empty whiskey bottle and it was what inspired him as he responded, “Okay. And if a fight ever gets so bad again that I think the best way for me to handle it is to leave-and I will do my fucking _best_ to make sure it never gets that bad again, but if it does-then I will make sure you understand completely that I will be back. We need to talk, when things get bad, instead of running. Myself in particular, I think.”

 

“We are both too good at avoiding things,” she told him, a small smile forming on her face now; an olive branch, “I think that I can agree to that. Even if honesty is painful, I do believe now it _is_ our only way forward, to survive.”

 

He nodded his agreement, “And forward-what is that to you?”

 

“I don’t know yet, Ethan,” she sighed, deflating again a little.

 

“Okay,” he nodded, then smiled reassuringly, “You don’t have to just yet.”

 

She smiled, “Thank you. But what is going forward for you, I wonder?”

 

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life if you’ll have me-in whatever way you’ll have me,” he told her bluntly, “As your friend and protector or something more. I want whatever you will give me Vanessa, and whatever you give me will _always_ be enough.”

 

“Okay,” she whispered, a bit overwhelmed.

 

After that, he helped her clean up the room, which she had at some point trashed, and she helped him with the self inflicted wounds from struggling on the chains. For the first time since his return, they were on truly even ground-and both were entirely certain, for the first time, that they could and would get through it. Together, or not at all.

 

-o-o-o-

 

It was late at night now, and Vanessa had just finished her bath. It was as she was about to pull her nightgown on-satisfied she was dried off enough-that she caught a glimpse of the brand on her back in the mirror as she turned. She frowned, contemplating as an idea formed in her mind. 

 

They had agreed that honesty was for the best now, and the rest of the day they’d spent mostly on their own, giving the other person the space they needed to lick their wounds and want to come back to the other. Dinner was the first time in hours that they’d spent any length of time together, and after dinner they’d shared a cigarette and talked more, telling each other a bit more about their childhoods. It had been nice, in a way that was both relieving and somewhat unexpected given how the day had started.

 

Vanessa realized, as she turned this way and that in an attempt to glimpse the brand again, that she wanted to be honest with him about this too. She did not wish to hide any part of herself from him-even the ugly mark on her back. So with her mind made up she simply pulled her robe back on again, grabbing the folded up nightgown and leaving to go back upstairs.

 

Ethan was in bed, reading when she came in. At the sight of the intent look on her face he slowly put the book down, frowning in concentration as he tried to wrack his brain for what was going on-and coming up blank.

 

It was about when he was going to ask her that Vanessa finally stated, “I want to show you something.”

 

“Okay then,” he agreed, slightly confused. 

 

Vanessa nodded to herself, taking a deep and steadying breath as she moved forward. She made sure that Ethan was watching her as she undid the tie of the robe so he could understand her intent. When it was finally undone she turned her back to him and shimmied out of the robe, finally shrugging it off her shoulders entirely. The cool air on her nude skin made her shiver slightly, but she ignored it in favor of shifting just enough to move her hair over her left shoulder.

 

His eyes were drawn immediately to the brand on her back, and he was unable to stop his fingers from drifting over it. She flinched, and he immediately retracted his hand with a quickly muttered apology.

 

“It’s quite alright,” she took another calming breath, steeling herself.

 

“May I?” he asked.

 

“Yes, of course,” she replied with a slight nod of her head for emphasis.

 

His fingers ghosted purposefully over the skin of her back before touched the brand, tracing its cruel outline. When Ethan pulled his hand away he was unable to stop himself from leaning forward and pressing his mouth to it, lingering for longer than was strictly proper-not that anything about the entire situation truly was anymore.

 

It was as he drew away that Vanessa realized he could see more than the brand on her back, or even her back itself. Ethan himself realized it as well, and was unable to stop himself from letting his eyes rest on the curve of her ass or the swell of her hips from behind. Swallowing as the tension became thick he forced himself finally to avert his eyes from her nude flesh.

 

“Why did you want me to see it?” he asked, softly.

 

“I did not want there to be any secrets between us any longer,” she told him simply, “And I am done living in the shadow of the fear of my past.”

 

He absorbed that as she began to move, grabbing the nightgown she had placed on the vanity. He could just barely see the front of her in the mirror and quickly looked away, doing his best to calm himself before she joined him once more. When she came back, she had an amused look on her face and he braced himself for being teased.

 

“Would you like a moment alone?” Vanessa asked him, quirking an eyebrow pointedly at Ethan. She knew he had been looking, and rather than feeling shame or anger, she felt mere amusement-as well as perhaps a bit flattered and aroused by the attention.

 

“No need, darlin’,” he grinned lazily at her, “I know how to look and not touch.”

 

She smirked at him, letting the statement sit for a long moment before finally joining him in bed. She was kind, and did not move into him immediately.

 

Once she did, however, she almost howled with laughter at the way he flinched as she felt proof of his own arousal.

 

“It’s perfectly natural, Ethan,” she told him, sobering.

 

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, pulling her closer.

 

For the first time in a long time, sleep came easily and well to them both.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Their routine became easier, after that, as did their ability to communicate. No longer were they at each others’ throats. Though everything was not yet well and fixed, the distance had finally begun to be bridged-and they were on their way forward, together. Things were finally starting to look up for them both.

 

They both tried to spend time alone whenever possible, so as to not become as dependent on the other again. They had discussed it and both agreed that it would be for the best if they spent even a mere hour each day simply doing whatever they would like individually. It had worked so far; their time spent together now was more treasured, and no longer were there tense silences when one of them was in a mood. They tried to talk when things got bad, instead of retreating into their own heads.

 

Sometimes it came in fits and starts; Vanessa would have a bad day, and be moody. But by the end of it somehow Ethan would have convinced her to talk to him about it rather than simply lash out at him, as she was wont to do. Or perhaps Vanessa would ask a question about Ethan’s past he did not want to answer, and he would become tense and defensive. She merely had to apologize for touching on a sore subject and he was apologizing as well for not being able to tell her something. Sometimes it would end with him doing so, and sometimes it did not; either way, they talked about his reluctance, and therefore everything would be okay.

 

Their time spent together now-while less frequent-was more amiable. It was more reminiscent of how they had been a year ago. Finally, they seemed to be on the same page-and ready to move forward, together. Even on the days when things were bad.

 

It was in the evening perhaps a week later, after dinner, when Vanessa asked Ethan if he would like to dance. He was surprised, and joked he doubted he needed a tutor anymore.

 

“Then dance with me as a man does with a woman,” she told him, challenging him. 

 

He rose to it, leading her in an over the top waltz that had her laughing by the end of it, and him too, thoroughly enchanted by her. He marveled at Vanessa, grateful to be the cause of her laughter. It was the knowledge that he’d been the one to cause it that caused him great pleasure, and also reinforced the notion that they would be okay.

  
After that, they danced almost every night after dinner, a new addition to their old routine-a way forward, out of the darkness they’d found themselves in, and a step-finally, _finally_ -into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dancing part was a prompt vanessaschandler sent me on Tumblr that I decided to add to this fic instead of making it its own oneshot. I don't know how dancing works so I didn't get too specific, forgive me. 
> 
> Now for an announcement of sorts: I am really not too sure when I'll next be able to upload something. I have started the next chapter but I'm in the final crunch in my online class/preparing to go live in another country for over a month so my free time is sporadic. If I have Internet enough when I'm away then I can definitely do my best to write when I'm not in class or doing work for it, but the housing arrangement for the place the institute got for me said there's probably no Internet. So if I don't have Internet, I won't be able to write or upload things, and I'm sorry for that. I did do what I wanted to of getting these two chapters out together, and I do think I'll be able to finish this by the end of the year, which is my goal. I'll do my best in the next five days before I leave to work on the next chapter, and maybe we'll all get lucky and I'll be able to post it. Anyways, I hope you liked this, and thank you to everyone who is sticking with me!


	7. i come alive with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan and Vanessa's physical relationship begins to develop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry this took so long!! This is just straight up porn with some minor plot, honestly. So I hope that makes up for the wait. ;) Enjoy!!

 

Another new addition to their old routine happened one night after they’d danced around downstairs. They’d talked in hushed murmurs at points, laughter occasionally filling the air at a comment made or a particularly goofy dance move Ethan made up on the spot just to see the delighted way Vanessa’s entire face lit up as she cracked a smile at him. She did not berate him; she was not his tutor anymore, but rather his dance partner-his equal. It was on this night, after a day where every moment they spent together had been pleasant, that they kissed again.

 

Neither was entirely certain of who had begun the kiss, just that they enjoyed it. Vanessa’s eyes were filled with equal parts affection and arousal when Ethan broke the kiss for air, and he was sure his were the same. Vanessa smiled at him in a way that made his heart ache with love for her, and he felt like he could burst with it when she leaned forward and pressed her face to his chest. His arms wrapped around her automatically, swaying gently from side to side as they embraced.

 

After that, they kissed a lot. In the mornings when Ethan came downstairs he would wrap himself around her from behind, distracting her from cooking breakfast with soft kisses to the side of her jaw and neck until she turned and met his lips with hers. She’d playfully admonish him for the distraction and he’d take over her post in return. Sometimes after dinner they’d share a cigarette on the sofa talking, and then the conversation would gradually die out until they kissed again.

 

They were sweet, relatively chaste kisses at first. Vanessa was not yet ready for more and Ethan was happy to go slowly. But then one night Vanessa broke the kiss for air and climbed on his lap, her open mouth finding his neck, and he had to clench his hands into fists by his side to keep from doing _something_ -pulling her closer, perhaps, or pushing her already rucked up skirt even higher and discovering what was underneath, or maybe running a hand torturously slowly up her side to palm at her breast. Then her mouth found his again, and he lost all ability to form rational thought, hands coming to her back and to tangle in her hair to cup her head and deepen the kiss.

 

Always though she inevitably broke the kiss. She didn’t run or push him away anymore, but once the kiss was broken for good Ethan would let go of her, letting her decide what she wanted to do without feeling like she was being trapped by his touch. Vanessa greatly appreciated it, and it was for this very reason that she did not run away herself nor push him away, but rather stayed as she was.

 

They kissed like this several times over several nights before one night Vanessa-who was already in her nightgown this time-took one of his hands and tentatively placed it on her breast. Ethan was careful and gentle in the way he brushed his fingers over the sides of it, across her nipple. When he finally squeezed her breast and then pinched her nipple through the fabric of the nightgown she hissed in pleasure, and it was him who had to stop. He pressed his forehead to hers after, both panting heavily. It was clear that this was different than the times before. He tried not to think about whether or not she was wearing anything under the nightgown rucked up her thighs almost all the way to her hips.

 

“I believe we need to talk,” she breathed finally, once she had collected herself enough to speak.

 

“Okay,” Ethan agreed easily.

 

Vanessa swallowed and said, “While it is quite clear that we _both_ want more than this, I’m still not sure if I am able to give myself that way just yet.”

 

“If I’ve done something wrong, been too forward or disrespectful in some way-”

 

“You have done nothing of the sort,” she interrupted him, frowning a little at his self deprecating, “You have been kind to me, and I have not once felt pressured into anything.”

 

“Then what’s bothering you?” he asked, a furrow in his brow now of confusion.

 

She took a deep breath, mulling over words and finding none adequate. Finally she just said, “What if I’m never ready?”

 

“For more?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Vanessa replied, unable to fully meet Ethan’s eyes now.

 

“Then that’s okay,” he answered quickly and simply.

 

“Even if all I ever was ready for, or wanted, was just to kiss you like this-that would be enough?” she asked him, her turn to be confused.

 

“Of course,” he said firmly, his conviction mildly shocking to her, “As I said before Vanessa, I want to be with you-in whatever way you’re comfortable with. If this is all you’re ever ready for or want, then it is _more_ than enough for me.”

 

“Alright,” she breathed, finally. 

 

They were silent after that, both thinking. She did not climb off his lap, and instead leaned in to kiss his neck softly instead. He pulled on her hair as gently as possible to coax her into kissing him again, which she obliged gladly. These kisses were soft, tender. Neither tried to deepen them, and when they broke for air Vanessa only stayed for a moment before climbing off of Ethan. Standing, she stretched out a hand to him-she was not running, but rather asking him to go upstairs with her.

 

He went gladly, and held her happily all night long.

 

-o-o-o-

 

A few nights later as they kissed on the sofa Ethan finally managed to suggest what he had been considering since their conversation. It was as Vanessa involuntarily rolled her hips down against his in an attempt to relieve the throbbing ache building between her thighs that Ethan broke the kiss, but kept his hands on her so she knew that he wanted to talk. Still, it took him a moment after that move to calm himself enough to speak.

 

“There are ways I can help, you know,” he swallowed, then added, “I mean, without actually… I apologize for being crass, but forgive me-what I’m trying to say is, if the… pressure, I suppose, is too much. There are ways that I can relieve it, without joining with you that way.”

 

“Oh,” she breathed, somewhat overwhelmed by arousal.

 

“That was too forward of me,” Ethan stated, but did not apologize.

 

“No,” Vanessa shook her head, swallowing as she desperately attempted to collect herself, “I want you. I’m just not sure how…”

 

“Trust me?” he asked.

 

“Always,” she replied without thought or hesitation.

 

Ethan nodded, plan forming in his mind, and said, “Then go upstairs and I’ll follow.”

 

Vanessa nodded her agreement, climbing off him. She tried not to appear too eager in the way she went upstairs, but she could not help but rush. In another situation perhaps Ethan would have chuckled at how endearing her excitement was, but he himself was too aroused to find true amusement in the situation. He would have to be careful; but he would not have offered if he thought he could not keep himself-both man _and_ beast-in check, and Vanessa safe.

 

“How do you want me?” she asked as she turned to face him while he closed the door.

 

“However you’re comfortable,” he replied quickly, “If you don’t want to be fully nude I can work with that.”

 

Vanessa nodded, considering. Eventually she stripped, slowly, until she was completely bare before him. It took Ethan’s breath away, the trust she had in him in that moment. He moved towards her slowly, carefully, and kissed her hard.

 

Breaking the kiss he told her in a soft murmur, “Go lie on the bed.”

 

Vanessa nodded shortly once, and then did as told. Ethan lay next to her rather than on top of her, wanting her to feel safe and not like she was captive. His mouth found her neck, nipping at the skin where neck met shoulder. Then his mouth moved to her collarbone, her breasts. He played with them with both mouth and hand, until Vanessa’s breath hitched from the moans she tried to conceal. Ethan vowed that he’d coax at least one sound out of her mouth before the night was over.

 

He debated briefly whether to put his mouth or his hand between her legs, finally deciding on hand. He wanted to see her face when she came the first time they did this, and besides, he highly doubted any of her lovers before him had put their mouths on her; he did not want to startle her with too much newness at once.

 

Ethan stroked his fingertips up her inner thigh first, until Vanessa spread her legs for him. He teased her; a fingertip stroking her outer lips first before he found her clit. His strokes were slow, gentle; exploratory. He wanted to make her feel every sensation-every wave of pleasure-to be completely caught in the moment. He knew when to increase the pressure of his fingertip and when to retract it, getting her closer and closer to her peak-but never giving quite enough to tip her over it.

 

“Ethan, more,” she growled finally, frustrated with the lack of true progress.

 

“Manners, Miss Ives,” he chided teasingly, chuckling to himself at her impatience.

 

“ _Please_ ,” she gasped without hesitation, so desperate was she.

 

Ethan could not help the growl that escaped him at her neediness. He moved his hand lower, and thrust two fingers into her without preamble. He set a quick pace, finding the spot inside of her that made her keen and see stars behind eyelids that closed of their own volition. He shifted his hand so he could press his thumb to her clit, and watched her face as the tension built and her back arched as she came closer and closer to the edge.

 

“Look at me,” he commanded hoarsely, “Vanessa.”

 

She did, eyes snapping open. Their eyes locked, and he hit that spot inside of her as he flicked his thumb again her clit before rubbing it in a short circle. Vanessa came hard, a loud moan escaping her as she did so, back taut as a bowstring before whatever held her suspended snapped and she fell back to the bed, panting. Ethan fingered her through it, and only when the waves of her orgasm had all finally receded did he remove his hand. Vanessa pulled him to her, kissing him with a desperation that made his heart ache.

 

“Thank you,” she breathed, barely an inch from his mouth.

 

“You’re welcome,” he grinned softly at her, “I wanted to make you feel good.”

 

“Mm,” she sighed, letting go of him to fall back against the bed, thoroughly sated.

 

They were quiet for a while, save for when she asked him for a cigarette that he happily brought her. He was still hard, but ignored it; perhaps he would sneak off to the bathroom to take care of it later, but it was not important for now.

 

As if reading his thoughts, Vanessa asked, “Can I do that to you? Something similar, I mean.”

 

“If you want to,” he told her carefully.

 

She hummed thoughtfully, and said, “I’d rather watch you first, I think. I want to know how you like to be touched.”

 

“Are you sure?” Ethan asked.

 

“Yes,” Vanessa answered, ashing the cigarette and taking another long drag. The sight of the way her lips wrapped around the cigarette was enough for Ethan to move, undressing quickly.

 

Vanessa put out the cigarette when he was completely nude, lying on her side with her head propped on her hand, watching raptly. Ethan stroked himself slowly, a steady up and down motion of his hand on his cock. When his breathing grew more rapid he swept his thumb over his tip, groaning at the pleasure it brought him. Vanessa watched all this intently, feeling stirring between her legs again that she ignored in favor of paying attention to Ethan.

 

Eventually she placed her hand over his on his cock. He moved so it was his hand on top of hers, guiding it up and down his shaft. He let out a needy sound like a whimper when the back of her finger brushed the underside of the head of his cock, so she made sure to do it again.

 

“Vanessa, _fuck_ -” he growled, “I’m so close. It’s gonna be messy, so if you don’t want-”

 

“Ethan,” she breathed softly, “I want to feel you.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whimpered.

 

She gently nudged his hand off hers for the last part. Finally she brushed the underside of the head, and then ran a thumb over the slit at the top. With one final stroke from base to shaft Ethan came, choking out her name as he spilled over her hand and onto his stomach. 

 

When he came down, Vanessa kissed him softly before she got up to clean off in the bathroom. When she returned, he left to do the same. He came back to her curled up under the blankets, still naked. He took her lead and joined her without pulling his pants back or undershirt back on, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

 

“Thank you,” he finally said.

 

“I wanted to make you feel good,” she whispered, smiling into his chest.

 

Sleep came quickly for both of them after that.

 

-o-o-o-

 

“This will sound more naive of me than I ought to sound,” Vanessa told him, staring at the ceiling, “But I did not know that _that_ was something you could do to me. Or perhaps I should say _would_.”

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, propping his head on one hand as he lay on his side in bed next to her. He had just finished using his hand on her, and she had not reciprocated-not that he necessarily minded. Ethan liked watching her too much after doing this to care, he’d discovered over the past few days since their relationship had progressed to this stage.

 

“I mean,” Vanessa hesitated, then remembering who she was talking to decided to take the leap and trust him with this secret part of herself, “I knew it was possible, of course. To use your hand in such a manner-I did it to Mina, once. But I did not think that a man would do such a thing, since he has no real need to.”

 

Ethan swallowed, and decided not to press her about her previous lovers-male or female-when he told her, “I consider it necessary. That is-I know that you’re not ready for more than that, and that’s okay, but I wanted to make you feel good. This was how.”

 

Vanessa nodded, digesting his words before responding, “Thank you.”

 

“Of course,” he replied quickly, “There are other things I can do too, you know. Without my cock.”

 

“Like what?” she asked, finally turning to face him.

 

“Put out that cigarette and you’ll find out,” Ethan told her with a confident grin.

 

Vanessa did as she was told, and Ethan kissed her, long and slow. He kissed down her neck, across the top of one breast before taking the nipple of the other playfully between his teeth. She keened, arching off the bed in response. He let her go, sucking the other nipple into his mouth to give it similar treatment before moving on to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down her stomach, starting with the spot below and between her breasts where her ribs met. His kisses gradually made it to her hip, and then the inner thigh of the opposite leg. Ethan hesitated for only a moment before nipping playfully, knowing already that Vanessa enjoyed a bit of roughness. Sure enough she let out a whimper at it. He soothed the sting with his tongue, and then shifted to settle himself properly between her thighs, hooking one leg over his shoulder and gently nudging the other further out to open her to him.

 

Ethan started off with long, slow licks along the length of her before diving into her folds. Had he been able to see her face he would have seen as it changed rapidly from confusion to shock-eyes bulging and mouth falling open-to blissed out arousal, eyes slammed shut and mouth slack with pleasure as grunts she could not help fell from her lips. He took great pride in them, and the sound Vanessa made when he finally flicked his tongue at her clit was positively unholy.

 

After a little while Ethan slid two fingers inside of her as he focused his mouth on her clit. Vanessa’s hips undulated against his face of their own volition as she got closer and closer to climax, the little grunts and whimpers escaping her mouth making his cock twitch in his pants. He did his best to ignore his own arousal in favor of taking care of Vanessa’s. He flicked his tongue just under the hood of her clit before sucking it into his mouth and twisting his fingers inside of her. With a hoarse cry Vanessa came, one of her hands finding its way into Ethan’s hair to keep him in place as she rode it out.

 

He obliged happily, with soft licks against her clit as she came down so as to not overwhelm her with sensation. Eventually her grasp on his hair loosened and he took that as a cue to pull back, resting his face against her thigh for a moment before untangling from his position and coming to rest hovering over her. Vanessa closed the distance, tugging on him to pull him to her, their mouths meeting in sleepy but desperate kisses. 

 

“Well?” he asked expectantly after they broke the kiss, though he did not go far.

 

Vanessa chuckled softly, a goofy, sated grin on her face, “I hope you plan to grow your hair out, to make it easier for me.”

 

“Miss Ives,” he pretended to be scandalized, “How presumptuous of you!”

 

She was all softness in that moment as she replied, “I plan on keeping you for a while yet, after all.”

 

“Good,” Ethan grinned at her, equally soft, “Because I plan on keeping you for a while yet, too.”

 

Vanessa nodded, and kissed him deeply for a while. When they broke apart she yawned and said, “I apologize, but I am quite tired.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, brushing some hair that had fallen into her face out of the way, “I can take care of myself.”

 

“Okay,” she murmured, halfway asleep already.

 

-o-o-o-

 

Their physical relationship progressed so that it became almost every night that they were intimate in some way at first. Vanessa enjoyed pushing Ethan down, and he’d just laugh and take the hint about how she wanted him. As the nights went on, she found herself wondering how she could do something to him with her mouth, and found herself wanting to. She wanted to give him this pleasure that he had shown her, that she had not quite realized was possible. 

 

On this particular night she gently pried his face from her cunt when he went for it. She was always too sleepy afterwards for a long time, and she needed to be able to focus when she asked for what she wanted.

 

“Fingers,” she managed to gasp out. Ethan nodded his understanding, choosing to put his mouth to work at her breasts as he situated his hand between her legs.

 

After he was done, and they were kissing, Vanessa pushed Ethan away just enough for him to see her face when she asked. She felt a bit hesitant; she did not like that she was somewhat less knowledgeable about these things than him. But the look on his face was kind and she knew he would not judge her, no matter what her mind may have convinced itself. 

 

She took a deep breath and said, “I want to put my mouth on your cock. But I’ve never taken anyone into my mouth before, and I’m not sure…”

 

“If you’d like,” he breathed, and she could tell he was straining to retain his composure after her words, “I can teach you, the way I taught you how to use your hand on me.”

 

Vanessa nodded, smiling a little, “I would like that.”

 

“Okay,” Ethan nodded too, “I think maybe it’d be easier if I was sitting up a little against the headboard, but if you find at any point that it’s too difficult for you we can always try different positions to find one that works.”

 

Vanessa nodded in assent, and Ethan rolled off of her to shift into position. Vanessa moved too, kneeling over him. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning in to kiss him before setting to the task of undressing him, batting his hands away when he tried to help her with his shirt. She was in control, and she intended to make that clear.

 

“Just go slowly,” he advised, “And if I don’t like something, I’ll tell you. I trust you.”

 

Her movements were hesitant at first, slightly nervous. She leaned down to kiss his tip, and felt more than heard the sharp breath of anticipation Ethan took in as she did so. Emboldened by it, Vanessa sucked just the tip into her mouth, licking softly afterwards before releasing him. 

 

“It might help to put a hand around the base,” he suggested, “I just know that one time-”

 

“You can tell me another time,” Vanessa cut him off, even as she did as he had suggested, “I want to know everything about you, but I do not want to think of the other people you’ve been with when we’re like this.”

 

“Okay,” he replied, “Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” she smiled softly, and then leaned in and licked him from where the top of her hand was to his tip. Ethan let out a whimpering sound at the move, and Vanessa filed that knowledge away for later.

 

She set to work in earnest then. She paid attention to the noises he made and the way he moved, learning what he liked. Vanessa’s confidence grew as she continued, licking and sucking at his cock. She did not try to take him in deeply; at one point, Ethan had told her that doing so might be difficult, and perhaps tried another time. She discovered that licking the ridge just under the head of his cock or along the slit at his tip had him practically keening, but that when she gently grazed her teeth along the tip it was too much for him. 

 

It did not take long, and like the first time she’d used her hand on him, Ethan tried to warn her of his impending climax. Also like that first time, Vanessa decided that she wanted all of him, and so continued with her work instead of switching to just her hand. She licked at his most sensitive places before finally sucking him in as deep as she could, and with a shout of her name Ethan came into her mouth, gasping, his hands flying to her head. He did not pull her hair, but rather kept them there, needing to touch her in that moment. She continued to suck and lick him through it, swallowing as much as she could. When she finally pulled away, Vanessa wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, and Ethan groaned a little at the sight.

 

“How long have you been wanting to do that for?” he managed to ask her.

 

“A while,” she admitted easily, “I wondered what you would taste like.”

 

“Was it as good as you’d hoped?” he dared to ask.

 

“Better,” she grinned cheekily at him with her response, leaning in to kiss him so that he might taste himself on her tongue.

 

-o-o-o-

 

It was not too long after the latest development in their relationship that Vanessa began to realize that maybe she not only wanted more, but now was ready for it. She trusted Ethan to keep her safe, that that joining would be only pleasurable, a mere extension of their relationship thus far rather than something shameful in any way.

 

She wasn’t quite sure how to address the topic, however. They were quite comfortable in their routine, even though it was no longer nightly. But God, how she wanted to know what he felt like inside of her.

 

And so it was on a night perhaps a week and a half after Ethan had taught her how to take him in her mouth that Vanessa decided to broach the subject of doing more than what they could with just their hands and mouths.

 

She found herself surprisingly certain that Ethan could protect her, calm in a way she’d never known before.

 

Vanessa just hoped that that peace would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am now sure that this fic is gonna be 9 or 10 chapters long-depending on how long a plot in the 9th chapter takes, I may split the 9th chapter into two. We're in the home stretch, folks. My goal is to finish this before the end of the year. I hope that I can do so sooner, obviously, but though I'm back home with wifi I'm also in university and working so I'm not sure how much free time I'll have, but I promise that I'll do my best to update again soon. This work is my baby and I will never abandon it. I've said that before, but let me say it again for emphasis.
> 
> Also, I may or may not have a oneshot in the works if you're interested in my other work, please keep an eye out for that soon too... ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to wait till I had a certain amount done before posting this, because I actually have a plan for this. But it wasn't happening and I wanted to post this more, and maybe it getting views will kick my ass into writing more efficiently. I'm a bit nervous because multichapters aren't really my thing, but I could not do justice for all the ideas I have in one chapter. In total I'm guessing this is gonna be around 10-12 chapters. I'm gonna try to post weekly.
> 
> Anyways, if you've read any of the other works I've posted, I mentioned in one that I'd be posting a grittier s3 AU. This is that.


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